


Cruel Summer

by charincharge



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Amusement Park, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amusement Parks, Angst, F/F, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 99,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charincharge/pseuds/charincharge
Summary: COMPLETE. Rowan Whitethorn is forced to spend one miserable summer working at Ashryver Playland, Terrasen’s local amusement park. Cleaning up trash and separating horny pre-teens on the ferris wheel isn’t actually what he wanted to do with his summer – not even close, but he’s got to pay the bills somehow.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 192
Kudos: 363





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, I'm incredibly active on Tumblr, so if you feel like conversing, please feel free to message me there @charincharge

Rowan Whitethorn is having a really horrible day. Not just the kind of bad that he can shrug off, but the kind that seeps through his skin and sinks into his bones, that permeates even the smallest thing, turning everything into a giant annoyance.

First, he missed his alarm, so his grumpy manager, Lorcan, has been even grumpier with him since he pulled through the gates of Ashryver Playland this morning. The amusement park job is less than ideal. Rowan hadn’t planned for his summer to be taking tickets and cleaning up melted ice cream cones from sweaty-faced teens – but it was the only place that called him back, and he doesn’t come from the type of family that can afford to pay his rent. So unless Rowan had wanted to spend the summer in his mom’s unairconditioned apartment, dodging set ups with her mahjong circle’s daughters, this was his only option.

It's nearly 3PM, and Rowan still hasn’t been able to take his lunch break. He knows that’s adding to his bad attitude. Rowan has a tendency to get hangry, or so his coworker Fenrys tells him. And because he was in a rush this morning, he forgot to pack his lunch. Which means he’ll have to spend money buying overpriced crap at the park.

Rowan’s also on trash duty today. Which means he gets to spend the whole day circling the park grounds with a giant broom and pan and pick up the fallen bits of funnel cake and popcorn and soda cups and dump them into the closest trash. Then, once those are full, he gets to haul the heavy bags of stinking trash all the way to the back of the park where the dumpsters are. It’s pretty much his worst nightmare. Though Rowan isn’t opposed to physical activity, he’s not super fond of smelling like rancid garbage. He tugs at the collar of the too tight uniform polo shirt stretching uncomfortably across his chest and frowns. After a bag split all over him earlier, Rowan was forced to go diving in the employee lost and found for another uniform. Apparently, the only person who’s missing a shirt is two times smaller than him. He sniffs himself and nearly gags. He can’t wait to get home and shower. He look at his watch … in … five more hours.

“Whitethorn,” Lorcan calls, crossing across the yard at him. “Take your thirty now. Then you’re taking over for Connall at the ferris wheel ‘til closing, yeah?”

Rowan barely contains a shudder upon hearing his new assignment. He hates trash, but working the ferris wheel is somehow worse. He didn’t realize until last week that’s where every middle schooler goes on their first make out date. He’s had to pull too many kids off the ride, feeling like their disapproving father as he pulled their clashing braces apart to make room for the next patrons in line. Frankly, he finds PDA disgusting. And the sight of thirteen-year-olds going at it is enough to scar him for life.

At least Rowan finally gets to eat something, though. The oppressive mid-day heat combined with hours of physical labor and no fuel has him feeling like he could keel over any second. He grunts his acknowledgement at Lorcan and makes his way to the closest concessions stand, which luckily has barely a line – I guess since it’s 3 fucking PM and not actually lunch time. Rowan is about to step forward when he feels tiny fingers poke against the back of his knees. He’s about to snap at whatever parent to keep their kid on a tighter leash when he realizes there is no parent, just a kid – and the kid is, in fact, trying to get his attention.

“Um, excuse me? Sir?” the little boy says. Rowan’s never been a sir before. He hates it.

“Yeah?”

“I think I lost my family,” he says resolutely, not sounding even a little bit scared. “Can you help me find them?”

Rowan’s stomach grumbles and his head pounds. He knows he has to return this child to his family, but he also knows he needs to eat immediately or he’s going to lose it.

“We can absolutely do that,” Rowan begins, “but I haven’t eaten all day. Do you think you can wait like… ten minutes?”

The little boy nods and sticks out his hand. “I’m Gavin and I’m five.”

“Hey, Gavin. I’m Rowan and I’m hungry.” Gavin giggles at that, and Rowan finally cracks a smile and shakes the boy’s hand.

Rowan steps up to order, thinking about what’s going to be the fastest, since his thirty minute break is going to include an unforeseen detour to security at the entryway of the park. “Can I get a hot dog, a pretzel, a cherry coke and…” He looks at the little boy next to him. “Anything for you?”

Gavin’s eyes widen with glee. “Cotton candy?!”

“…and a cotton candy.”

Rowan reluctantly hands over a $20, saying goodbye to three hours of hard work. But he has no choice. They get their food and make their way to the eating tent. Rowan keeps his eyes open for anyone looking panicked or in search of a child, but he doesn’t see anyone who fits the bill.

Rowan inhales his hot dog in record speed and takes a giant gulp of his cherry coke and immediately feels better. Sitting under the shade of the tent helps, too. The pair sit quietly and eat their food. Gavin swings his legs happily as he peels off pieces of his cotton candy, licking the sticky sugar from his fingers.

“So…” Rowan has no idea how to talk to a kid, but he figures he should ask him a few questions to figure out who to return him to, at least. “Who are you here with today? You said your family?”

Gavin nods excitedly, the sugar clearly starting to make its way through his tiny body. “Yup! My whole family is here today. My mom, my dad, Auntie Ae, Nana and Grandpa.”

“Wow.” Rowan’s heart tugs slightly. “That’s fun. Any special occasion?”

“Nope. We come every week,” Gavin says.

“Every week?” Rowan asks, his voice rising in pitch. He’s trying to do the math of the ticket prices. $30 for six family members. That’s $180. For every week of the summer…? Rowan’s mental math skills stop there, but he knows that’s a LOT more than he’s ever been able to casually throw down.

“Yup. Since I was a baby,” Gavin says. “It’s my family’s special place.”

“Think your family would adopt me?” Rowan jokes. He loves his mom a lot, and she did the absolute best job raising him, but they’ve never had a special place. His mom thinks adding guacamole to her Chipotle bowl is special. Not that Rowan disagrees. Guacamole is a perfect condiment.

Gavin finishes his last lick of cotton candy and holds his red hands up at Rowan. “I’m sticky.”

Rowan shoves the final bite of his pretzel into his mouth and stands up. “Me too. Let’s go wash our hands and then find your family. Sound good?”

Gavin nods, skipping next to Rowan, his little shoes lighting up as he matches the striding pace. They make their way to the row of porta-potties and outdoor sinks, which line the side of the park. As Rowan washes his hands, he notices Gavin struggling to reach the stream of water. Of course. He’s only five.

“Need a hand?” Rowan asks, and Gavin nods, holding his arms up to be lifted. Rowan’s arms burn, since he’s been picking up giant bags of trash all day, but he manages to keep Gavin mid-air until he’s finished cleaning the sugary crystals from his hands. He’s putting Gavin back on the ground when he hears a loud voice shrieking behind him –

“YOU! SIR, STEP AWAY FROM THE CHILD!”

_Damn it._

Rowan sighs and turns, letting his hold on Gavin drop completely. This is so not what he needs right now.

“Gavin, honey, come here,” the voice calls again.

Rowan searches to see who the voice belongs to and is momentarily stunned. Gavin’s mom is… young. And _hot_. Her golden blonde hair is swept away from her face in a high ponytail, resting softly down her bare back, on display in a strappy yellow tank top. And her jean shorts show off her long, tanned legs. Rowan stares a beat too long because the next thing he hears is, “Gavin, earmuffs,” and suddenly the blonde woman is inches away from him, in his face and pushing at his chest with her pointed finger. She is _mad._

“Stay away from this little boy, you pervert!” The woman’s eyes flare angrily as she pushes Rowan’s chest again forcefully with her finger, and he is not having any of that. He grabs her finger in his large fist and moves it away from him, making the woman stumble back slightly. Her mouth widens into a small circle as she looks up at the man grabbing her finger.

“I’m sorry, pervert?” He chuckles humorlessly. “This little boy asked for my help finding his irresponsible family. Who lost _him_. I work here.” Rowan uses his other hand to point to the stupid logo on the corner of his polo. “He happened to find me on my lunch break. Maybe if you’d been a more responsible mother you wouldn’t feel the need to get this worked up the guy who was clearly about to take your kid to security.”

“Mom?” the woman says, horrified and snatches back her finger. “Oh my god.” Her demeanor shifts entirely as she looks to Gavin and motions for him to uncover his ears. “Gavin, please tell this very rude man that I am way too young and cool to be your mom.”

Gavin frowns. “I don’t think he’s rude, Auntie Ae. He gave me cotton candy.”

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up in accusation. ‘You gave him cotton candy? You’re only proving my point.”

Rowan puffs out his chest defensively. “I’m sorry, is cotton candy a sex offender favorite? I wouldn’t know.”

“You _clearly_ offered sweets to a child to lure him away from his family!” she says way too loudly, looking around and making a show of her statement.

“Quiet down!” Rowan snipes through gritted teeth. “I need to keep this job, for fuck’s sake.”

The woman smirks and steps closer. “I think your employer deserves to know you were luring children away from their families!” she exclaims dramatically, attracting the attention of a nearby security guard.

“No,” Rowan says, his voice increasing in volume as well. He’s had it up to here with this day, and this woman has grated his last nerve. “That’s not… Listen…” Rowan takes a deep breath. He really cannot lose this job. “I was starving and about to go on my lunch break when some poor lost kid asked for help finding his family. I told him he could order something with me, since I felt bad. Sorry. I’ll be sure never to be polite ever again.”

Rowan has gotten in “Auntie Ae’s” face, and he’s breathing hard. He’s worked up, and he knows it’s not her fault, but fuck this day.

“Is everything alright here, Ms. Ashryver?” the approaching security guard asks, and Rowan pales.

The woman steps back and takes a breath, her fury melting into a warm smile for the guard. “No, Frank, everything is fine. Just thanking one of our newest employees, who made friends with Gavin today.”

The guard chuckles. “He run off again?”

The woman’s eyes flash in warning and the guard shakes his head. “Ah, don’t be mad, Aelin. You did the same exact thing when you were his age. Running from ride to ride and driving your old man crazy.”

Rowan crosses his arms as the guard saunters off, and the woman turns back to him with a shy smile.

“Ashryver, hm?” Rowan asks, feeling a little ill as he pictures the large Ashryver sign that hangs over the entryway to the park.“So, what is this, like… hazing?”

“No! I was really only going to make the one joke and then let it go,” the woman says, biting her lip guiltily and shoving her hands into her jean shorts pockets. “But then you called me his mom and I just… got carried away. I do that sometimes. I’m Aelin. Ashryver.”

“So I heard.” Rowan rolls his eyes. “You know there’s absolutely nothing funny about calling someone a predator, right? I could be arrested if the wrong person overheard that.”

“You’re making me feel very bad,” Aelin says with a grimace.

“Good,” Rowan says resolutely. “Because now I’m also late to get back to work.” He’s more than a little annoyed at how this entire exchange has played out. And even more annoyed that he can’t stop staring at Aelin’s bright blue eyes. This is the last thing he needs. He’s about to head off when –

“You’re really not going to tell me your name?” Aelin asks, tilting her head up, trying to figure Rowan out. Rowan’s about to reply when she cuts him off, not even giving him a chance. “That’s fine. I’ll find it out. I have connections, you know.”

“I’m sure you do, princess,” Rowan says. Her lips purse at the nickname, and Rowan can’t tell if she loves it or hates it. 

“See you, stranger,” she replies, dismissing him and grabbing Gavin’s hand as she walks off. Just before turning the corner, she tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and looks back. It’s only when she winks at him that Rowan realizes he’s still standing motionless, watching her go.


	2. Chapter 2

The first Monday after Ashryver Playland opens is always Aelin’s favorite day of the summer. It’s a silly tradition her grandparents started, but it’s been a part of her life as long as she can remember. That very first Monday after the park’s first successful week, the Ashryver Galathinius clan opens up their summer home to the Playland’s staff and families for an all day pool party and barbeque.

Summer has always been Aelin’s favorite season. It means spending three months of pure bliss in her summer home, overlooking the waters of Terrasen from her bedroom balcony. And there’s something about Ashryver’s opening week barbeque that always manages to sets the tone for her summer. Summer doesn’t really begin until the barbeque begins. It’s always marks her first _something_.

When she was eleven, Aelin met her first real best friend, Dorian – one of the board member’s sons. She’d left the party to hide in the music room, trying to teach herself how to play her favorite Death Cab for Cutie song on the large grand piano, when he wandered in, singing on top of her stumbling melody line with a flawless unbroken tenor. He’d flashed her a giant smile and pushed his floppy dark curls out of his face and sat down on the bench next to her. They’d been best friends ever since. And the firsts only continued from there

As Aelin finishes drawing a perfect cat eye with her liquid eyeliner she wonders what first awaits her this summer. 

“Aelin, ten minutes til guests.” Her mother, Evalin, walks past her open bedroom door and does a double-take. “Wowww, _someone_ looks especially nice today,” her mom says with a playful gleam in her eye. “Might I ask who you’re dressing up for?” she asks, taking in Aelin’s white eyelet sundress and full face of makeup. “Because I know this certainly isn’t for Dorian. Wisely.”

“I heard that,” Dorian says, bounding up the last few steps and onto the second floor landing. He sees Aelin and grins that very same grin he gave her that first day he spotted her a decade ago and takes off running. Aelin squeals as Dorian hugs her from behind and swings her around, lifting her off her feet.

“Dor, put me down, I just finished doing my hair!” Aelin says, shrugging him off, but she returns his smile fondly, even as he flops down onto her perfectly made bed, making himself comfortable and kicking off his flip flops.

“You do look suspiciously nice, Ace. What’s with the dress and the hair? Aren’t you going to swim?” Dorian asks stretching his arms up and placing them under his head.

Aelin ignores him and goes back to finishing her makeup. She uncaps a crimson red lipstick and leans into the mirror to apply it when –

“You know if you’re actually looking to make out with someone tonight then red lips probably isn’t the right choice.”

Aelin slides her eye to the boy on her bed and then straightens up again, putting the red lipstick away. He does have a point. Dorian bolts upright, eyebrows raised.

“We’re making out with someone tonight? Who?” Dorian asks, poking Aelin’s thigh with one of his toes.

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she remembers the name of the staff member she so thoroughly stalked the other night. So thoroughly, in fact, that she’s actually embarrassed about it. But also, who has a public Facebook profile these days? Rowan Whitethorn, that’s who.

When Aelin realized all she had to do was ask her five year old nephew for the name of the man who rescued him, she was easily able to find the man on the RSVP list for the barbeque. And from there, she sat in front of her computer for hours, soaking in every last detail she could find. Grew up in Wendlyn, went to school at Mistward and majored in computer sciences and graduated four years ago. His interests include photography and fitness and baking (what man enjoys baking and posts pictures of it?).

Aelin is extremely curious as to how he ended up working at Playland. A man with that kind of degree doesn’t usually find himself ripping ticket stubs, but she’s not complaining about it. Aelin really enjoys looking at his face. And his arms. And his back. She’s anxious to talk to him today, which is annoying. Aelin is never anxious around men. She’s fun and flirty and confident, but one look at Rowan had her excess nerves dancing in circles and turning her into kind of a bitch. She’s hoping her second impression is a lot better. Hence, the dress. And the makeup.

“We’re making out with no one.” Aelin shoots a warning glance in Dorian’s direction as she puts on a light pink lip stain.

“You and Chaol didn’t get back together, did you?” Dorian asks, and Aelin cringes.

“Of course not.” She turns to Dorian as she puts on the final touch – her favorite gold hoop earrings. “You don’t think your best friend would have told you if we’d gotten back together?”

“I don’t know, that last break up nearly took us all out, so if we could not repeat that, that’d be great.” Dorian stares at her, willing her to fess up, but Aelin refuses to give him anything in return. It’s way too early to tell Dorian anything.

“All right, then,” he drawls in a silly British accent. “Keep your secrets.”

Aelin sticks out her tongue as her mom calls out from downstairs, “Kids! Party guests are here!”

“Twenty-four-years old, and we’re still fucking kids,” Dorian grumbles as the pair make their way down the grand front staircase. Aelin hops up onto the wooden banister and rides it all the way down to the bottom, shouting “Catch me!” to Dorian as he runs and chases her to the foyer.

Evalin scolds them, but there’s no real bite to it.Aelin fixes her banister-swept hair and makes her way out to the front stairs where she and her parents will greet all the staff members and their families. Her parents are all about making the Playland employees feel welcomed, and they make a point to learn each and every one of their names. Plus, they’re a stickler for etiquette. Aelin can’t remember a time when she wasn’t on the front steps to welcome party guests as they arrived.

“I’ll meet you out back in… an hour-ish?” Aelin tells Dorian. “Steal me a bottle of pink champagne?”

Dorian bows at the waist. “Yes, your majesty.” He chuckles softly when she flips him off.

Aelin is the last to join her family. Her parents and her brother, for all intents and purposes, Aedion, already perched and ready to welcome the first wave of guests.

An hour later and Aelin’s jaw already hurts from smiling. She’s shaken so many hands and met so many people and made polite conversation with staff members from years past, but there’s still one face that hasn’t shown yet, and Aelin is having a hard time not showing her disappointment. He RSVPed yes, which means he should be here. Not showing up would be very rude. Right?

Aedion shakes out his hands and cracks his neck loudly. “Who’s ready for a drink?”

Aelin is reluctant to leave the front stairs. Leaving the front stairs means they’re finished greeting people at the party, which means that party guests have stopped arriving, and she’s not ready to admit that defeat. She gives one last wistful glance down the long empty driveway before giving in.

“Yeah, I could use a large drink,” Aelin yawns, leaning into her big brother’s shoulder.

“You’re not allowed to be tired,” he says with a laugh, squeezing her arm. “You are a sprightly youth and don’t have a ten-year-old and a five-year-old waking you up every morning at the crack of dawn to fight about watching _Cars_ or Disney Fam Jam.”

Aelin looks up at him. “That’s not a real thing.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“This guy needs a drink,” Aelin says loudly as she and Aedion make their way out to the back patio where the party is really happening, and Aelin relaxes a tiny bit. So what if Rowan isn’t coming and she got all dressed up for nothing? She’ll look extra cute in pictures this year. She’s here with her family on the first real day of summer, and she’s determined to have a good day, regardless

She takes in the scene around her – everyone seems to be having the best time. Caterers mill around the stone patio, holding out trays of grilled meats and veggies. At the far side of the patio is a long bar with an ample crowd around it. Champagne is being popped and spirits are being poured, and there’s endless bounds of chatter and laughter from all directions. In the middle of it all, the pool is filled with children and adults alike, playing games and doing handstands and lounging on floats

The edge of the pool fades into the perfect view of the ocean. Aelin takes a deep breath as she watches the waves break against the shore. She listens to the gulls cawing overhead and inhales the salty sea breeze. Despite her small bout of disappointment, Aelin is happy.

Aedion’s two kids squeal for his attention from the pool.

“Dad! Auntie Ae!” Evie calls from the far end of the pool, her usual strawberry blonde ringlets sopping wet around her shoulders. “Watch me dive!”

Evie dives into the side of the pool, her dolphin arms in perfect form as she splashes into the water. She emerges with a giant smile on her freckled face.

“Good job!” Aedion beams. “Okay, drinks, now,” he whispers to Aelin, guiding her toward the bar.

“Where’s your wife?” Aelin asks, looking around for the green eyed brunette, who’s usually hovering around her children.

Aedion points ahead, and sure enough the woman in question stands at the front of the bar, looking insanely glamorous in a black one piece with a sheer leopard kaftan, taking shots of tequila with Aelin’s favorite returning staff member, Elid

“Lysandra brought our babysitter with us today,” he says with a devious smile and snakes his way through the crowds to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist.

“Aelin, come do shots!” Elide pulls Aelin up to the bar, her outstretched hand helping her weave her way through the throngs of buzzed staff members. “We’re celebrating my promotion!”

“Ellie is officially manager level this summer.” Lysandra and Elide raise their newly filled shot glasses and hand one each to Aelin and Aedion respectively. Aelin hates tequila but loves Elide, so she clinks glasses and downs the alcohol quickly, grabbing a lime and sucking as much of the juice out of it as she can.

She shudders and Aedion punches her in the shoulder playfully. “Lightweight.

Aelin rolls her eyes and reverts the topic back to Elide. “So, big shot manager. Does this mean you’re spending all your time with Lorcan now?” Aelin raises her eyebrows, knowing about Elide’s not so small crush on the stoic manager. “Long nights, just the two of you, arranging schedules in the soft romantic light of the Playland breakroom?”

Elide covers her face with her hand and screws her eyes shut. “Oh my god! No! No that is not what is happening at _all_.”

“Your mouth says no, but your blush says – ‘Yes, Lorcan, yes!’” Aelin teases, poking at Elide’s rosy cheeks. Elide slaps Aelin’s hands away.

“I just had three tequila shots, of course my cheeks are red.” Elide’s hands go to her cheeks, covering them as much as she can, trying to will away the warm flush creeping over her face. “You’re a monster, Aelin. That’s not what’s going on with Lorcan,” she hisses.

“What’s going on with me?” Lorcan asks, approaching from out of nowhere with a beer in his hand, and if possible Elide’s blush grows even deeper.

“Nothing!” Elide shouts, exasperated. “I’ll be right back. Be good, Aelin.” She throws Aelin a warning glare as she stalks off, and Lysandra and Aedion bite back their laughter as a bewildered Lorcan muses out loud—

“Did I say something?”

“No,” Aelin says, turning all her attention to Lorcan. “Elide was just saying how excited she is to work as a manager with you.”

Lorcan’s face lights up as he takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, she’s been a huge help so far. Especially with such a new staff this year.”

“Yeah… a lot of newbies this year.” Aelin pauses, wondering if she should probe Lorcan about Rowan. It wouldn’t do any harm, right? “Anyone giving you any trouble?”

“Nah,” Lorcan shakes his head and pushes a long piece of hair behind his hair. “But you know me. I like them to think they’re all giving me trouble, so they act accordingly.” He snorts, amused with his own management technique. “There’s one new guy who is _so_ jumpy around me. I love it.

“You’re evil,” Aelin laughs.

“I prefer diabolical,” Lorcan replies. “Ah, and it looks like he just arrived,” Lorcan continues with a grin. “Want me to introduce you, so you can see it up close?

Lorcan points in the direction of the sliding doors that lead out to the patio, and there, in all his tall blonde and board-shorted glory stands Rowan. Finally. But Aelin’s heart drops. Because Rowan isn’t alone. He’s arrived with a girl.


	3. Chapter 3

There are nice neighborhoods in Wendlyn. There are suburbs with sprawling lawns and white picket fences and wraparound porches and two car garages. But Rowan has never seen anything like the Ashryver’s Terrasen summer estate. It took him a full fifteen minutes just to walk up the driveway. He supposed he could have parked on the driveway – he sees most everyone else has, but he’s certain his loud clunker of a truck would have only marred the view.

The house is stunning. It sits on top of a stony cliff that overlooks the North Sea. He cranes his neck up, taking in the mansion. It looks as if it’s four stories tall, and each window has its own personal balcony. The front door is wide open, so he walks through, admiring the high ceilinged foyer. His flip flops clop across the beautiful black and white marble floor, echoing loudly with each step, making him feel more and more self-conscious

He’s already running extremely late. It took him forever to decide what to wear. Stupid, he knows. But he’s fucking nervous. He’s never been to a party like this. With people like this. He ultimately decided on a t-shirt and board shorts and flip flops – it was a pool party, right? But as he looks around the back patio, at the caterers and full bar, Rowan’s not sure he made the right choice. He looks over his shoulder, desperate for some reassurance from the girl he brought with him for moral support, but can only gape, horrified

His roommate Manon, has taken off her leather jacket and revealed her outfit underneath – an oversized band t-shirt she’s wearing like a dress, which… barely reaches the tops of her thighs. He knows the t-shirt well, and though it promotes the Beastie Boys innocently on the front, he knows when she turns around, in large yellow block letters it will read: **GET OFF MY DICK.**

“Fucking A, Man. Put your jacket back on. That is so not appropriate. We’re at my boss’s house.

Manon flicks a piece of lint off her shirt with her long black polished nails and narrows her eyes at Rowan. “Maybe if we hadn’t just walked four hundred miles down the driveway I wouldn’t be so fucking hot.” She smiles, baring her white teeth from under her dark lipstick. “Anyway, no one’s going to care soon. It’s open bar.”

“I don’t know why I asked you to come to this,” Rowan sighs, running his fingers through his hair. This was a bad idea. Manon isn’t exactly… work friendly, he thinks, as he takes in the ferocious-looking dragon tattoo that wraps itself around her forearm and disappears up her shirtsleeve.

“You couldn’t bear the thought of leaving me alone,” Manon coos, batting her heavily lined eyes at him. “Despite my many protests.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Don’t fucking slander me like that, Whitethorn. You know I’m the best you’ve ever had.” Manon winks. It’s a joke between them. They’ve lived together now for two years. Manon saved him after a particularly terrible run of bad roommates, and they’ve been cohabitating since. He made the mistake of telling her she was the best roommate he’d ever had one night, and she’s been taunting him about it ever since. Manon loves being the best.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the best I’ve ever had.” Rowan blows her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it and throw it back at him. He clutches his heart, wounded from her rejection. Though it’s par for the course with the two of them.

A throat clears loudly, and they both turn. Rowan’s boss stands with the one person he wanted to work himself up to seeing today. Aelin looks just as good as she did the last time Rowan saw her — if not better, all warm sun-kissed skin and long wavy hair in an ethereal white dress. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes glint with fire. Rowan’s beginning to think that’s just their natural state.

“Lorcan!” Rowan, stutters, unprepared.

Lorcan’s lips tug into a small smirk as his eyes slide over to Aelin. “Aelin, I wanted to introduce you to—”

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin drawls his name and holds out her hand out to shake his.

“I guess your connections came through,” Rowan says with a smile, but it’s not returned, and Rowan feels self-conscious again as he pulls his hand back.

There’s an awkward pause as Rowan wonders what the hell to say next. Aelin doesn’t seem interested in continuing a conversation, and Lorcan isn’t exactly the most amicable guy in the world.

Aelin’s eyes narrow and turn to the girl on Rowan’s right. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“What?” Completely flustered, Rowan’s forgotten that Manon is beside him. Manon looks at him, annoyed. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” He shrugs. “Sorry. This is Manon.”

“I’ve just been standing here the whole time, you asshole,” Manon chides, and Rowan sends her a warning glare, but she smiles widely and ignores him, holding her hand out to shake hands with Aelin.

“Manon Blackbeak. Thank you _so_ much for having me.” Though Manon sounds sincere, Rowan knows Manon is being anything but. She’s going to be mocking him about this party for days.

Aelin returns her handshake, and gasps upon seeing Manon’s nails — intricate black and white designs on long talon like shapes. Manon says they’re coffin shaped. Because that’s apparently a thing. Rowan shudders. Manon’s nails are the one thing about her that truly frighten him

“Oh, I love your nails,” Aelin says, admiring them thoroughly. “But it’s such a shame you’ve broken two of them.”

Manon’s amber eyes flash with glee as she gives Aelin a practically feral grin. “Oh, sweetheart, those aren’t broken. I keep those two short on purpose, so I don’t hurt pretty things like you.”

“Jesus, Manon,” Rowan barks out, blushing for Aelin. Watching Manon flirt with the girl he’s had his eye on is enough to send him into an early grave. Rowan scans Aelin’s face for any signs of offense. He doesn’t see any, but feels the need to apologize for his roommate, regardless. “I’m so sorry for her. Honestly.

Aelin looks confused, her eyes darting between Manon and Rowan at a rapid pace. “…I don’t get it,” Aelin admits, and Manon is about to explain when Rowan cuts her off.

“It’s better that way.”

Manon rolls her eyes and twists her long platinum hair over her shoulder. She preens, admiring her manicure and picks off a nonexistent hangnail before looking back at Aelin. “Something you should know about Rowan is that he’s absolutely no fun.”

“So it seems,” Aelin says, her brow furrowed. Aelin’s demeanor changes in an instant again, giving them a terse smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Manon. And to officially meet you, Rowan. Enjoy the party.” And with a flounce of her skirt, she’s gone

As Rowan watches Aelin disappear back into her house 

“What’s the story there?” Manon asks. “You piss in her cereal or something?” Rowan quirks an eyebrow at Manon, and she laughs. “That girl _does not_ like you.”

Rowan crosses his arms defensively. “Why would she not like me? I’m very likable.”

Manon poked a sharp talon into his arm. “That’s debateable. Regardless, I know you did _something_.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Rowan can feel the anger swirling around his stomach. There was some fundamental reflex to being disliked that always got the better of Rowan. It wasn’t that he had a compulsive need to be liked, but — okay, maybe it was that a little bit. But also, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And why was he so damn upset about being blown off by a person he’d spoken to just a handful of times?

Lorcan snorts as he finally pipes up. “Aelin’s a handful. Steer clear that drama.”

It’s the most candid Rowan has ever heard Lorcan ever be, so he nods, taking in his warning. Though he’s not a hundred percent sure he’s going to adhere to it.

“Let’s get drinks,” Rowan suggests and Manon follows him willingly. Drinks are definitely an idea she can get behind.

Rowan meets up at the bar with the rest of the Cadre — that’s what the group of his coworkers has named their text thread. He’s not exactly close with any of them yet, but it was nice to be added to the group chat. Fenrys and Gavriel are already wet from the pool and the twins, Connell and Vaughan, pass around beers to everyone.

Rowan’s taken his first swig of beer when he realizes he’s lost Manon along the way. He finds her mid-conversation with Elide, one of the other Playland managers. Rowan isn’t super familiar with the petite girl, and he’s shocked to see that his roommate is.

“You found a friend,” Rowan says, handing a beer to Manon.

“Manon was my Resident Advisor my freshman year at University of Terrasen. Can you believe that?” Elide squeals. “She was the absolute coolest. She always let me sleep on her couch when my roommate kicked me out for slutty sleepovers.” Elide leans into Manon’s side, and Rowan expects the cold, white-haired girl to shake her off, but she doesn’t. She shocks the hell out of Rowan and wraps her arm around Elide’s shoulders and squeezes her, looking down at her with a fond smile. A small pang of jealousy blooms in Rowan’s stomach. He didn’t expect Manon to have her own friends at this party. She was here to be _his_ support. Which he obviously, desperately needs. He’s floundering here.

As Rowan tunes in and out of Elide and Manon’s conversation, giving the appropriate mhms and wows, his eyes wander the patio, searching for the blonde who disappeared on him earlier. He can’t shake her dismissal. He wants to talk to her. Know what’s behind those blue and gold eyes of hers. Know why the hell she walked away from him. He spots her by the pool. She’s reemerged from the house with her hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing only a white bathing suit and freshly painted bright red lips. Rowan can’t help but stare as she slowly makes her way into the pool, the water rising until it hits right at her chest. It’d be indecent if the swimsuit weren’t so modes. The girl certainly knows how to command attention.

“Rowan.” Manon snaps her long claws in front of his face.

“Hm?” Rowan brings his attention back to his evilly grinning roommate.

“I asked if you wanted to get into the pool,” Manon says, her eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Manon raises up onto her tiptoes and whispers into Rowan’s ear. “Think she’d be down for a threesome? She is _fire_.”

Rowan’s cheeks heat as he pushes Manon away. “Stop that.”

Manon grins. “But you’re so easy to rile up.”

Rowan finds a free chair for their things and strips off his t-shirt, and Manon does the same. He sighs upon seeing Manon’s black mesh strappy bikini, which looks more like lingerie than swimwear, showing off the artwork inked all over her body. Not that he can talk. He has his own tattoo, which runs up his chest and down his back.

As they make their way towards the pool, Rowan pauses. Aelin is in the pool with another man. He’s pale with floppy brown hair, and Rowan can tell he’s a rich kid just by looking at him. Their hands are all over each other. Aelin smiles and lets him kiss her cheek as she hoists herself onto his back.

“Uh ohhh,” Manon drawls. “Looks like Barbie’s already got herself a Ken.”

Rowan elbows her in the ribs. Perhaps a little harder than intended. Manon scowls at him. “I’m never taking you as a wingman anywhere ever again,” Rowan grits out.

“Ahah! So you admit it. I am here as a wingman because you have a crush on the boss’s daughter.”

Rowan flicks his pine green eyes at Manon. He doesn’t have to confirm anything. Manon has figured him out. So what? He thought Aelin was cute, and yeah, he thought maybe today would be a good opportunity to talk to her again. Get to know her a little better. Maybe start a friendship. Maybe more. Who knows? But it looks like that’s not in the cards. The dismissal was her way of letting him down easy. She’s already involved. Whatever. It’s better this way, Rowan thinks to himself. This way he won’t put his job at risk. Or his heart. It’s fine. He doesn’t know anything about the girl other than how good she looks in a bathing suit. He’ll get over it. He’s sure of it.

Except he doesn’t. The rest of the day is torture. Aelin avoids his gaze, shifting away from him at every opportunity. And it drives him absolutely insane. She splashes around the pool with her cohort, whose name he overhears is Dorian. He swears if he hears her shout out “Dor!” with unbridled affection one more time, he’s going to crack his teeth by how hard he’s grinding them. He tries to distract himself by racing with the Cadre, who’ve taken up the entire deep end, but he tires quickly.

Water-logged and exhausted from the sun, Rowan pulls himself out of the pool. He leaves Manon in Elide’s company and tells her he’s going for a walk. Rowan needs to clear his head. He grabs another beer and heads down the walkway to the beach. There’s something about the salt air and the sand that soothes him. Rowan walks a ways down, admiring the row of mega mansions that overlooks the water, though he can’t help but feel like even more of an outsider than he already is. He does not belong in this neighborhood. By the time Rowan makes his way back to the Ashryvers’ the sun is halfway dipped into the horizon, and dusk is upon them.

He finds a side gate to the house and makes his way through it, surprised that it leads to a beautiful rose garden. Vines crawl and wind themselves around arched trellises creating a magical canopy of flowers. His mom would love this garden. He sits to take a picture for her when the garden lights turn on, lighting the flowers with delicate twinkle lights, giving the garden an ethereal glow.

Rowan’s phone buzzes with a text from Manon. **_People are leaving. Where u at, bitch?_**

He laughs to himself and texts her back quickly. **_Be right there. Just paused to take a pic._**

**_Loser._ **

Rowan ignores Manon’s reply and snaps another photo of the garden. He wishes he had his real camera and not just his camera phone to capture the light of the garden, but he thinks he manages to take an okay snap of the lit roses with the fading sun over the ocean in the background.

He’s about to head back to the patio when he hears a voice from overhead call out, “Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?”

He looks up, and sure enough, Aelin is dramatically leaning over her balcony, hand placed over her brow, as if she were searching through the crowds for her paramour.

Rowan is positive she doesn’t see him in the dusky twilight, so he chuckles somewhat loudly and gives her a short wave to get her attention.

Aelin straightens up immediately, her posture suddenly rigid with tension. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t see anyone out here.”

“I figured,” Rowan says, running his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his. He spots a silhouetted shadow emerging from behind Aelin and smiles sadly. “By the way, I think your Romeo is behind you.”

Confused, Aelin turns, and sure enough Dorian appears next to her. He pulls her into his arms, and Rowan’s heart gives a small sad tug as he watches Dorian spin Aelin and lower her into a low dip. His footsteps feels heavy as he walks away and hears her peals of laughter ring out into the slowly encroaching darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Aelin sips her coffee and silences her phone as it buzzes continually on the kitchen table. It’s been going off for the last two days with texts from Dorian. She lied and told him she wasn’t feeling well to give herself some space. But she knows she can only fend him off for maybe one more day or so.

**Park today?** ****

His latest text reads. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with Dorian. She does. She really does. But, she’s just not feeling up to going to the park yet. She knows he’ll want to spend all day there, and she’s feeling less than enthused about that. And she’s sure that has absolutely nothing to do with a tall silver-haired employee she spent the better part of Monday avoiding. Nope. Nothing at all.She replies quickly.

**Still sick. In bed with a fever :(** ****

“Liar!” Dorian calls, rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Aelin grumbles as she takes a large bite of her toaster waffle. “How’d you get in here?”

Dorian slides into the kitchen chair next to her and lays his head down on the table, looking up at her with the saddest, biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage, and innocently holds up the small gold key that usually resides under the flowerpot next to the front door. Aelin grabs it back and lays her head on the table next to him. They stare at each other, their faces a few inches apart, Dorian’s eyes wide with wondering at Aelin’s frowning.

Dorian smirks and brings his hand up to _boop_ her nose softly. Aelin scrunches her nose, but she can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at her best friend’s efforts.

“You’ve been in a mood since Monday. What’s the deal?” he asks. “It wouldn’t happen to have to do with the red lipstick fiasco? Don’t think I didn’t notice you went back upstairs to put it on.”

“No,” Aelin scoffs, her false bravado kicking in as she pushes herself upright. “Of course not. I just remembered I had a matte stay all day lipstick, and it went better with my outfit.”

Dorian lifts himself up and stares at Aelin, his brow furrowing as he goads her, “So not wanting to go to the park has absolutely nothing to do with the hot hot silver-haired staff member you were making eyes at all day?” Dorian sighs. “Come on, Aelin. Tell meee,” he pleads. “I already know.”

Aelin flips her hair over her shoulder as she places her mug into the sink. “I’m sorry, Dor.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be sorry,” he says. “Because if we’re not going to the park, I’m going to need full details on your hot piece. And the side dish he brought with him.”

It suddenly clicks for Dorian. “Ohhhh, you’re disappointed he brought a date?” Dorian smirks. “Aelin. Not everyone can be single at your behest.”

She crosses her arms, annoyed. This is why she wanted one more day to herself. She didn’t want to talk about Rowan and his stupid rude girlfriend with her dark hipster makeup and beautifully inked skin and brightly dyed hair. If that was Rowan’s type, she had no shot of getting his attention. Not that she hadn’t tried. With the white bathing suit, and playing rough with the boys in the deep end and overzealously clinging onto Dorian’s back. Still, he hadn’t said a damn thing to her until the party ended, and only by accident

“No,” Aelin lies. Dorian looks at her, unblinking. “Stop that.”

“You can’t let one little staff member prevent you from going to the park. It’s Ashryver Playland, and you’re Aelin fucking Ashryer. It’s _your_ park. Let’s go reclaim our stomping grounds. Please?” he begs again, his sapphire eyes looking up at her through his thick fringe of lashes. “I promise I’ll shield you if we see him.”

“Fine.”

Dorian’s blinding smile is almost worth it. She tells him she’ll be right back and runs upstairs to get dressed for the day. She might put a little more effort into it than she would for just Dorian, but there’s no harm in looking cute. She braids her hair into two French braids and wiggles into a hot pink crop top and her overall shorts. She dons a full face of makeup, finishing with a pink lipstick, and finally makes her way down to where an impatient Dorian is waiting.

He holds out his arm for her, smartly not commenting on her outfit, and Aelin slips her arm through, linking them together for the fifteen minute walk down the beach to the Playland.

They’re greeted at the ticket booth by Fenrys, who is working behind the counter. He blushes upon seeing the approaching pair, and it makes Aelin smile. He hasn’t been quiet about his crush on both her and Dorian, which she thinks they would both be all over if he weren’t four years their junior. He’s shockingly good-looking with deep tanned skin and shoulder-length golden hair. He flashes them a toothy smile and Aelin can’t help but grin back, her mood lightening.

“Ah, the king and queen of Playland.” He pulls out unlimited wristbands for them. “Happy Summer.”

“Hey, handsome, happy summer,” Aelin says with a wink as he tapes on her wristband. “Aelin, when are you going to let me take you out and make me the happiest man in Terrasen?” Fenrys asks, and Dorian snorts.

“Man? You’re not even old enough to grow facial hair,” Dorian teases, rubbing his thumb against Fenry’s bare cheek. It blooms with a rare blush under Dorian’s touch.

“I just turned twenty-one, so, who knows? Maybe this year is the year,” Fenrys says as he puffs out his chest. He bursts into laughter. “Yeah, yeah. I know you’d never date a staff member anyway. No shitting where you eat and all that.”

“Sure,” Dorian smirks. “That’s the reason.

Aelin grabs at Dorian’s hand, pulling him away and waves goodbye to Fenrys, ready for the day.Aelin leans her head on her friend’s shoulder, her heart feeling ten times lighter. She’s buoyant, actually. She skips into the park, pulling Dorian along as she makes her way toward their first ride

They make their way toward the biggest ride in the park – the Firecoaster, a rickety wooden rollercoaster built nearly a century ago. It’s Aelin’s absolute favorite ride in the park, so they do it first every single time, despite Dorian’s constant criticism of it (it’s too shaky, it’s too old, why haven’t they replaced the cars in a literal hundred years?).

But as they arrive at the ride she sees a short crop of silver hair at the entrance, letting people onto the coaster. Naturally.

“Maybe we should come back to the coaster later,” Aelin suggests, and Dorian’s eyebrow lifts in question.

“You know I won’t go on this ride in the dark,” Dorian replies, and Aelin nods. She really wants to go on this coaster. But with Rowan letting people on, there’s absolutely no way to avoid him.“Is he up there?” Dorian whispers and tugs at one of Aelin’s pigtails.

Aelin doesn’t answer, still unsure of how she’s going to handle the whole situation. Dorian grabs her hand and pulls her into the line. With people piling in behind them, they’re immediately stuck.

“What the hell?” Aelin hisses, but Dorian simply shrugs.

“You’re taking back your ground!” he says exuberantly.

Aelin knows he’s right, but her stomach still feels like she ate a box of rocks with how heavy it is suddenly. She watches intently as Rowan performs his job, dutifully ushering everyone into the wooden coaster cars and making sure they’re safely secured before they take off. He’s not particularly friendly, Aelin notices. He's not the kind of staff member who smiles at each person with a customer service grin, but she does take note that at he makes sure to help the smaller kids in and out with one of his steadying hands.

The line moves far too quickly, and within minutes they’re at the top of the line. Aelin knows she should look away, but as she makes her way onto the platform, she keeps her eyes trained on Rowan. When he finally turns and meets her gaze, his dark green eyes widen slightly with surprise. Aelin swallows, her mouth suddenly feeling completely parched as they share a charged, wordless stare

It’s interrupted by the last coaster coming to a stop suddenly on the tracks before them, and Rowan scrambles to attention to help the group exit the car. Dorian pushes Aelin into the first row of the empty car, and she stumbles forward, throwing her best friend a dirty glare.

Aelin straps herself into the cart, pulling the seatbelt across her lap and clicking it securely in place.

“Everyone, hands up,” Rowan says, and he starts from the back of the car, tugging at the seatbelts to ensure the passengers’ safety. 

By the time Rowan reaches the front row, Aelin’s heart is pounding in her chest, and it has absolutely nothing to do with her excitement to ride the rollercoaster.

Rowan squats down and leans his torso across Aelin, his arm lightly brushing against the front of her overalls as he reaches over her to tug on Dorian’s seatbelt. Satisfied that it’s in place, Rowan pulls back slightly, his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into a thin straight line. His head is so close to hers, she can feel his breath fan across her neck as he exhales. Despite the hot sun overhead, goosebumps break out across her arms. What the hell

“Hey, you’re Rowan, right?” Dorian pipes up, and Aelin sends him a murderous glare as the silver-haired man looks up with a suspicious frown on his face.

“Uh, yeah. I am,” Rowan says, turning his attention to Aelin’s lap.

“Aelin’s told me so much about you,” Dorian continues, ignoring his best friend’s death stare. “Maybe we could all go out soon? Since we didn’t get to meet at the party.”

Rowan looks perplexed as he adjusts his position again to check Aelin’s seatbelt. “Um, maybe? I’m kinda busy… with work.”

Aelin is going to kill Dorian. She shifts in her seat to question him, right as Rowan reaches down to tug at her seatbelt, and she accidentally throws him off balance. Rowan falls forward a tiny bit and his hand darts out to brace himself. It comes to rest on Aelin’s knee, the rough pads of his fingers clutching against her bare skin, and if Aelin weren’t restrained, she thinks she may have jumped out of the car in shock. 

“Sorry!” Rowan apologizes, snatching his hand back in pain, as if she were on fire and he’d just burned himself.

“It’s fine,” Aelin says, her voice sounding breathy to her own ears. She’s positive she’s blushing all the way down to her chest, but she refuses to look.

“Sorry,” he says again, his voice filled with apology.

She’s about to reassure him again, but he’s already walking back to the controls. Aelin looks over her shoulder to get one more look at the man who literally took her breath away with a single touch, but she can’t think about it for long.

Because soon she’s flying forward. The wind rushes across Aelin’s face, swirling around her with each twist and turn of the coaster. Laughter bubbles up from her chest, and she squeals loudly as they hit the first drop. She closes her eyes and lets the ride take her up, up and away, making her heart race.

Just as quickly as it took off does it come to a halt. Aelin unclips herself quickly and runs as fast as she can on her unsteady legs, away from Rowan’s prying gaze. As soon as she’s far enough away from the ride, she whirls around and socks Dorian in the arm. Hard.

“OW!” He clutches at his shoulder.

“Maybe we could all go out soon?” Aelin parrots his words back at him. “What the fuck, Dor?! What happened to being my shield?”

Dorian rubs his arm, slowly stoking the pain out of his dead arm. “I was doing recon. Notice he didn’t say he had a girlfriend.”

“I hate you,” Aelin says, going to punch his other arm, and Dorian runs, cowering from her absurd superhuman ability to find the most painful spot to punch.

“You love me!” he shouts as he sprints toward the log flume.

The pair chase each other from ride to ride, making the most of their day in the park. Aelin only spots Rowan once more, after his shift change, taking tickets at the Skyflyer – a ride she and Dorian have sworn never to go back on after they both tried it in high school and puked their guts out afterwards. So, conveniently, she doesn’t have to deal with that whole situation again. Which is good, because it’s starting to stress Aelin out. She’s never this strung out about a guy. Ever. Especially one that isn’t single and is definitely uninterested.

By the time the sun is setting, Aelin is more than ready to go home. She could use a long soak in the bath and a good night’s sleep. But Dorian insists on one more ride. Aelin agrees, but only if Dorian promises to buy her fried dough with Nutella on it for dessert after.

Dorian’s smile lights up his face as he pulls her towards the bumper cars. Aelin might have a little too much fun crashing into his car over and over again

With a scoop of Nutella in her mouth, Aelin sees a shock of silver hair, finally coming in for the end of his day. She watches as he crosses the field and makes his way into the employee break room, her eyes following the motion of his lithe body. God, now that she knows what he looks like without a shirt on, she can’t stop imagining the way his tattoo crept up his taut abs, over his wide shoulders, and trailing down the side of his muscular back. It’s not fair. Why did he have to be in a relationship already? She licks her lips, tasting the warm chocolatey hazelnut spread and hums in pleasure as she imagines licking it off other places…

“Elide!” Dorian shouts, calling over their friend and breaking Aelin out of her hormone-induced trance. Elide runs over with a smile on her face for the pair.

“I’m sorry I barely saw you both at the party,” Elide apologizes immediately, but Aelin and Dorian wave her off

“You were celebrating. With Lorcan, right? Please say yes,” Aelin says with a cheerful smile and offers a bite of her dough to Elide

“I actually spent most of the time with a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in a few years,” Elide admits as she takes the piece from Aelin. “She used to be my RA. She’s the best. I hope you met her.”

“Really?” Dorian asks. “That’s so much fun. Who?”

“Manon Blackbeak?” Elide continues, oblivious to Aelin stiffening next to her at the table. “She came with a new guy, Rowan. She’s his roommate. Isn’t that such a crazy coincidence?” Elide rambles.

Dorian looks to Aelin and mouths “ _roommates_ ” with a smirk

“Roommates?” Aelin asks, her voice tight. “Is that all they are? Because I got kind of a datey vibe from them.” Aelin tries to keep her face impassive, but can’t when Dorian snorts at her. Aelin has forgone subtlety today, apparently.

“No, that’s impossible,” Elide says resolutely with a shake of her head.

“Because roommates have never gotten together before?” Aelin asks, her voice haughty with ridicule.

“No. Because they both like women,” Elide says with a laugh. “Or at least Manon does.

Dorian bites his lip and looks at Aelin. His eyes frantically connect with hers before looking back at Elide, who is completely unaware of the bomb she’s just dropped.

“Is that so?” Dorian asks, and Elide nods.

“Oh yeah. Manon is a gold star and proud of it.” Elide looks at her watch. “Shit, I have to clock out. But I want to catch up with both of you later, okay? Find me next time you’re in the park?”

“Yuppp,” Aelin drawls. “Bye, babe!” Aelin waves as Dorian practically drags Aelin out to the parking lot, his torso doubled over in laugher.

Aelin frowns. “It’s not _that_ funny.”

“It’s hilarious,” he says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Here you were all worked up about your prince Charming having a girlfriend and she’s _gay_. What gave you the impression they were dating?”

“I don’t know. He brought a hot blonde to my house?” Aelin sighs. Rowan did introduce Manon as his friend. “Oh my god, I get it,” she squeaks.

“What?”

“She said this thing about keeping two of her nails short, and… I’m am so stupid.”

Dorian laughs at her, hard, and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “So, what now? Want help reeling in your man?”

Aelin smiles as she sees Rowan climbing into a beat up truck halfway down the parking lot.“No,” Aelin shakes her head as she links arms with Dorian again. “I think I’ve got it.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Rowan was a small child, his favorite activity with was baking with his mom. After his dad left, Rowan’s mom spent most of her time at work, trying to provide for her young son. But each Sunday morning she’d invite Rowan into the kitchen to help concoct her magical-tasting treats – and he’d soaked in everything like a sponge. Danishes and muffins and brownies and complicated layer cakes. There was nothing Rowan didn’t love to bake.

Now, when Rowan gets overwhelmed or stressed, baking is his ultimate safety blanket

He stares at his kitchen counter, filled with baking trays. In the last three days, Rowan has baked four dozen cookies of different flavors, his favorite salted caramel brownies, and a newly perfected chocolate chess pie. He should be relaxed; baking always makes him zen, but Rowan continues to feel tense. His neck and shoulders are knotted from how poorly he’s been sleeping, and there’s an overall sense of doom, wondering what torture he’ll have to endure at Aelin’s hands today.

As he pulls the pie from the refrigerator, Manon glares at him. She’s not as fond of Rowan’s baking activities. Having no taste for sweets, she insists he takes all the goods to work with him.He takes the cookies and the pie, but leaves the brownies for himself. He might need one later.

Rowan’s coworkers are more than happy to take the sweet treats off his hands.

“Whoa, what are these for?” Fenrys asks, hovering over Rowan’s shoulder as he uncovers the pie and cookies.

“Uh, I baked.” He awkwardly gestures to his handiwork. “Enjoy.”

Fenrys takes a cookie, despite the early hour, and shoves it into his mouth. “Shit, man, these are amazing. Elide, Aelin, come have a cookie,” he says between bites.

Rowan spins around, and sure enough, Aelin walks into the employee break room, arm in arm with Elide, laughing at something between the two of them. Over the last three days, Rowan has learned that this is par for the course. That Aelin casually hangs out with a whole lot of the Playland staff. She’s actually friends with most of them. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except -- Aelin’s in his space… all the time. There’s no escape. Rowan doesn’t know what changed, but somehow Aelin is suddenly _everywhere_ around every corner, on every ride, in the parking lot, in the break room. And flirting with him. Constantly. Even with Dorian right next to her. He’s done absolutely nothing to encourage it, but she’s relentless. Small touches here and there, and asking him personal questions and endless innuendo. He thinks maybe this just is how she is with everyone, but it’s driving him to insanity. 

Her blue eyes light up as she spots the baked goods and runs over to the table, her flaxen ponytail flouncing behind her.

“Cookies for breakfast!” she cries as she pores over the platters in front of her. “Did you stop at a bakery on the way in? These look amazing.”

“Um, no…” Rowan runs his fingers through his hair, self-conscious. “I baked.”

“Really?” Aelin examines the cookies closer. “Who taught you to bake?”

“My mom,” he replies, his tone clipped. Sensing he’s not going to offer up more information, Aelin presses forward.

“What is everything?” she asks.

“Uh, these are chocolate chip oatmeal.” Rowan points to the first half of the first plate. “Then, iced lemon shortbread,” he continues. “Raspberry linzer tarts, and peanut butter kisses.”

“I’ll take a kiss, please, Rowan.” Aelin gives him a wink.

“Take whatever you want.” Rowan frowns. He’s trying his very hardest not to flirt back, but she insists on making it impossible. “All of you,” he announces to the room, which has started filling up with the rest of his coworkers.

Aelin grabs a peanut butter kiss and plops the cookie into her mouth in one large bite. “Ohmigod,” she mumbles around her mouthful of cookie. And then, she closes her eyes and makes a noise so pornographic, Rowan starts to blush. He’s pretty sure Aelin is determined to give him a heart attack this morning. She doesn’t stop her low moaning until the cookie is completely gone. When Aelin opens her eyes again, almost everyone around is staring at her.

“Orgasm much?” Elide says, and Rowan thinks he sees the faintest trace of a blush on Aelin’s cheeks. 

“Yes, actually. I’m fairly certain I could orgasm from chocolate alone,” Aelin says with a laugh and then turns back to Rowan. “That one came pretty close.”

“If you like chocolate, you should really try the pie,” Rowan replies, unable to help himself, making Aelin grin. 

“Trying to help finish me off, Rowan? What a gentleman.” Aelin walks toward Rowan, and he inhales a sharp breath as she makes her way past him to take a slice of pie, her soft curves just barely brushing against him.

“Can I take a piece for Gavin, too?” Aelin asks, and Rowan nods stiffly. He’s hoping that if Aelin’s with her family all day that means he’ll at least have some space to relax a tiny bit. Surely she won’t continue her behavior in front of her relatives. 

But, like everything with Aelin, Rowan is wrong again.

She finds him first at his first shift at the Kiddie Coaster and introduces him to her entire family. She rests her hand on his shoulder as she makes intros to her cousin-slash-brother, Aedion, his wife, Lysandra, her mother Evalin and her father Rhoe, her niece, Evie, and she squeezes his shoulder gently when she says he already knows her nephew, Gavin, as if they’re old friends and not…whatever the hell they are.

Her family is nothing but friendly, extending their hands and smiles and gratitude for returning their child. But Rowan has no idea what to say to them. It’s not as if he and Aelin are actually friends. She’s just some girl he though was cute and then closed the door on as soon as he realized she had a boyfriend. As they hop onto the ride, Rowan is glad he’s somehow made it through unscathed. But, as soon as they’re done, Aelin brings Evie and Gavin through the line again, saying they had so much fun, they wanted to ride again. She does this _three_ more times, her hand lingering on his ever so slightly each time. She does the same thing with his afternoon shift at the Star Flyer swings. He’s not even sure she realizes she’s doing it. Each touch burns him. He needs this to end

When Rowan makes it back to his apartment that night, he reaches straight for a brownie, but that doesn’t even help soothe the raw ache pulsing through his body. He’s so worked up, and he has no idea what to do about it. He’d like to go to the gym and lift some weights, but the only gym in Terrasen closes at 9pm, so he’s resigned to pound some pavement with a run instead. He changes into running shorts, slides on his sneakers and heads out the door into the balmy evening.

With each step, Aelin’s obscene moaning echoes in his head. He cranks up his music as loud as he can and shoves his earbuds in, hoping to drown out the mental moaning, but nothing prevents him from recounting the feel of Aelin’s curves against him, or the way her legs looked in her tiny shorts or the vague flowery smell of her perfume and… No. That door is very much closed. No matter how much she flirts, Rowan knows it’s all in good fun. She’s taken. She’s just wants to be his friend and has no idea he torture she’s putting Rowan through each day.

He pushes himself with his run, going further and faster than he’s ever gone, until he can only focus on the burn of his legs and the feel of sweat dripping in rivulets down his bare chest and back.

By the time he makes it back to his apartment, Manon’s door is already closed for the night. He contemplates baking the recipe for his mom’s tiramisu, but he knows it won’t bring him the peace he’s looking for. Instead, he cranks up the heat all the way in the shower and lets it pelt down on his sore muscles. He drops his head and grabs the soap, washing away the remnants of dirt and sweat and sand, but as soon as he grazes his lower appendage, it springs to life. Rowan hisses. _Shit._ Guilt courses through him as he grabs himself, letting his hand slide in smooth strokes up and down. He barely has time to brace himself on the wall as he thinks of a certain pair of plump lips and closed eyes and that _fucking moan_ , and his orgasm overtakes him. _Shit_ , he thinks to himself again. Rowan is in deep, unending shit.

He groans and falls into bed, hoping Aelin will just back off and let him live the rest of his summer in peace. But of course, the following day is filled with more of the same. Lingering hands and eyes and soft brushes of Aelin’s body against this. It looks like there will be no reprieve to Rowan’s sexual tension. So, when Lorcan asks if he wants to join him, Vaughan, and Gavriel for an afterwork drink, he immediately says yes.

The dive bar is dimly lit and smells like cigarettes and stale beer. It’s one of those places with black sticky floors and a dart board in the back. A jukebox plays classic tunes from the corner, and Rowan puts in fifty cents and requests Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’. The tension fades a tiny bit as he sees the table full of guys. This is exactly what he needs.

They greet him warmly, and Rowan slides into the booth with a long sigh.

“Long day?” Lorcan asks, his dark eyes trained on Rowan.

“Long week,” Rowan says stoically, and the boys all nod. Rowan orders a whiskey from the waitress, and takes a large sip when she returns quickly with the short glass.

The guys compare their stories from the week. Apparently this is how the prickly Lorcan maintains group morale – comparing horror stories. Of which he says he has an infinite amount. Rowan believes him. Gavriel admits his worst day was cleaning up puke from everyone who got off the Tilt-o-Whirl and Lorcan and Vaughan nod, as if they understand. Rowan is extremely glad he hasn’t had to perform that duty yet. Lorcan laughs as he tells the story of rescuing a middle-aged man who threw his back out while sneezing on the carousel. And Vaughan admits he got lost in the Fun House, after cleaning the mirrors.

“I’m not shitting you,” Vaughan says, “It took me a good thirty minutes to find my way out.” They all laugh heartily at that.

They all look to Rowan, and he rubs his stubbly chin as he thinks about what the hell he’s going to tell them about his week. “I have no excuse, I’ve just been a cranky bastard,” he admits, finally starting to feel the warm buzz of whiskey flow through him. 

Lorcan grins and holds up his glass. “From one cranky bastard to another. Welcome.”

The group clinks their glasses and Rowan drains the rest of his drink in one sip. “I’m going to grab another. Anyone want anything?”

They all shake their heads as Rowan pushes away from the table and heads to the bar. He leans against the bar as he waits for his liquor refill and sways as his song finally comes on the jukebox. He feels relaxed and free for the first time in days and can’t help but sing along quietly.

“And he sings, ladies and gentlemen,” a familiar voice says from next to him. “Is there anything he can’t do?” Aelin flashes him a smile and takes her glass of wine from the bartender. Because of course she would order wine at a dive bar.

“Aelin,” he says with a soft sigh, his muscles starting to tense up, going on the defensive just a seeing her. “What are you doing here?”

“Stalking you.” Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his new cocktail. “Kidding.” She looks over her shoulder at a table in the opposite corner from Rowan’s where Dorian and two other people Rowan doesn’t recognize sit with drinks. “My ex and his new girlfriend are in town and wanted to go out.”

Rowan frowns. “That sounds awful.” He tries to take a closer look at the guy and girl at table at the far end of the bar, but all Rowan can see is the back of some brunette dude’s head, his arm wrapped around the dark haired woman next to him.

“It is,” she says with a wry laugh. “Please rescue me.” She bites her lip and looks up at him. She leans closer, her blue eyes glowing under the dim lights of the bar. “Want to go for a walk with me?” Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Rowan can feel them pulling him under; he refuses to drown.

The whiskey, which had been calming Rowan and lulling him with a hazy liquor blanket suddenly feels like it’s strangling him. He feels too hot and dizzy and annoyed, and something in him crackles and snaps.

“No, Aelin, I don’t,” Rowan answers and takes another long sip of his drink. “I don’t know what your game is, but this is inappropriate and borderline harassment.” He towers over her as he knocks back the rest of his drink and slams the glass down on the bar. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He expects Aelin to look hurt and retreat, but as usual, Aelin surprises him. Instead, she glowers right back at him and fumes, her cheeks red and her eyes flashing with fire. “Wrong with _me?_ What the fuck is wrong with _you?_ ” she pushes. “All I’ve done is be friendly, and you’ve given me nothing in return. Gods, a bowl of plain oatmeal is more interesting than you.” 

Rowan laughs dryly. “Something tells me you’re _friendly_ with all the guys.” He finally sees the flash of hurt in Aelin’s eyes at that, but he refuses to acknowledge the curling feeling in his gut. “And maybe I’m not giving you anything in return because I just want you to. Leave. Me. Alone,” he grinds out.

Aelin lifts her chin and flexes her jaw. Those blue-gold eyes trained on him, Rowan feels like she can see right through him and will call him out any second, but instead she simply says “Fine.”

“Great,” Rowan says and exhales, rolling his shoulders back to try and loosen the tension gathered in his neck and shoulders.

He watches as Aelin glides back to her table with a wide smile. She brings her wine to her lips and takes a long drag. Rowan watches as she sits and scoots her chair closer to Dorian’s, leaning into his side so he can easily wrap his arm around her shoulders. Rowan’s heart tugs. It's better this way. Easier. He walks back to his table and doesn’t glance her way the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, with this chapter you're finally caught up to where Tumblr is. I hope whoever posted my story feels really fucking guilty about it. Plagiarism is never cool, kids.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stolen story has been pulled by AO3! Success. Just a reminder that I'm @charincharge on Tumblr and super active over there as well. Always feel free to bug me.

Rain pelts against Rowan’s window, casting a dark, ominous hue over his bedroom. His first real day off from work, and it’s storming outside, naturally. He’d planned to take it easy and go to the beach, maybe go for a long run. But it looks like that’s not happening now. He knows he’s being punished. This is the universe’s way of intervening and letting him know how shitty he is. Rowan can’t shake the image of Aelin’s hurt face. It is seared into his brain. And there’s only one way to get it out.

Rowan lounges back into his pillows and opens his laptop before typing in **Aelin Ashryver** into his internet browser. Her Facebook profile pops up immediately, but it’s set to Friends Only, and Rowan definitely isn’t brave enough to add her as a friend. Her Instagram appears next, and Rowan nearly jumps for joy that it’s a public profile.

The first picture is of the back of her head, her blonde hair piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, with tendrils curling around the nape of her neck, overlooking her balcony and the view of the ocean beyond. **_She’s back, bitches_** the caption reads, and Rowan can’t help but chuckle. Next is Aelin with her entire family at the head of Ashryver Playland in a picturesque pose with the caption **_Favorite place with my favorite people (minus @dorhav118 who gets in TOMORROW!!!!)_. **The corners of Rowan’s lips curl downward as his curiosity gets the better of him, and he clicks on Dorian’s profile.

Rowan rolls his eyes at Dorian’s bio: “Hot as a pistol, but cool inside.”

His heart tugs at seeing the first picture. It’s from the pool party the other day, when Aelin was still in her white dress. She’s laughing at something Dorian said, her eyes closed tightly, glass of champagne in her hand, while Dorian smizes into the camera. **_Reunited and it feels so good <3_**

“Who kicked your puppy?” Manon asks from the doorway, and Rowan slams his laptop shut.

“No one.”

A wicked grin appears on her face as she stalks into Rowan’s room and slides onto the bed next to him. “I have a pretty good idea.”

Rowan sighs as Manon reaches over and opens the laptop back up, her long nails clacking against the keyboard. “Just as I thought.” She looks Rowan over, from the bags under his eyes to his hair, messy from constantly running his hands through it. “We’re going out.”

Rowan looks out the window at the torrential downpour and gray skies. “Out? In that? Where?”

“I don’t know,” Manon admits, “But I’m not letting you mope and stalk Aelin all day. It’s pathetic, and below you, to be frank. There’s got to be something we can do in this godforsaken town when it rains.”

It turns out there’s not that many options for what to do when it rains in the small beach town. Mostly everything is outdoors or beach oriented. But Manon decides that the aquarium is a good indoor activity, and it happens to be next to a brewery – for when they get bored. The pair Uber there, not wanting to deal with the hassle of worrying about sobering up. If Rowan’s not allowed to mope and be pathetic at home, he’s going to do today right. And do it drunk.

Despite it being one of the few indoor activities available, the aquarium is fairly deserted when Manon and Rowan arrive. It’s dark and damp and cool and strangely soothing, and Rowan lets Manon lead the way. She heads immediately for the reptile room, thrilled to see the alligators and lizards and snakes. Somehow Rowan isn’t surprised by this development.

They branch off into a small Amazon Rainforest room, filled with frogs and fish and even more snakes on low hanging branches, and Rowan nearly jumps out of skin when a large bird caws in his direction.

“I fucking hate birds,” he grumbles as Manon cackles in delight. “Can’t we see… cuter animals? Like, turtles and seals or some shit?”

Manon rolls her eyes and leads him straight to the shark tank. It’s open, so they can lean over it and look at the giant creatures. Rowan grits his teeth, only slightly terrified at the image of the fin cutting through the surface of the water.

“You know what you’re feeling is totally false,” Manon comments casually.

“Huh?” Rowan says, trying to maintain his calm façade.

“Sharks aren’t predators of humans. That’s the Jaws effect in action. It completely changed our perception of sharks and actually sparked a hunting frenzy that has put sharks in danger, even though they were just an important part of the ecosystem. Fuck you, Spielberg.” 

Manon purses her darkly painted lips and twirls her white blonde hair, leaning over the tank further. Rowan shakes his head at his roommate, who looks like she wants to reach into the water and pet the fucking things. He’s never seen her so affected before. 

“Why are you like this?” he asks, and she laughs.

“You’re not thinking about her anymore, though, are you?”

Rowan flicks her off. “I wasn’t.”

“A few more rooms will get you right back to that terrified place and not thinking about her at all. Don’t you worry.” She winks and leads him into an incredibly dark room, which is only lit up with glowing jellyfish. Manon is right, and within a few minutes, Rowan is feeling calm again. He lets the dark and schools of weird underwater creatures soothe him, and after they finish at the aquarium, Rowan is grateful he let Manon drag him out of the house.

“Beer?” she asks, and Rowan nods readily.

“I think I earned it.”

“Shut up, you fucking loved it. Think we should get a fish tank?” she asks, and Rowan shakes his head immediately. Manon is strange enough without tending to creatures from the deep in their apartment.

They brave the rain, realizing they both forgot umbrellas, and make a mad dash down the street. Rain soaks Rowan’s shirt, but he feels light. They duck into the brewery, and Rowan shakes out his hair, spraying water all over Manon, like a wet dog. He’s never seen her look so horrified.

“You’re lucky I set my makeup, so it’s immoveable every day,” she says with narrowed eyes. “First round’s on you, asshole.”

Rowan orders them two beers fairly quickly, despite the brewery being packed with patrons (he guesses this is where everyone goes when it rains). But when he turns around to hand Manon her drink, he’s surprised to see her mid-conversation with the very last person he wants to see.

“Rowan!” Dorian calls him over with a wide smile, and Rowan grimaces as he joins them. “I was just introducing myself to your stunning _roommate_ ,” Dorian says, and Manon rolls her eyes. But Rowan knows she’s beaming internally with the praise. Manon knows she’s beautiful and doesn’t let anyone forget it, despite her lack of interest in men.

“Uh, hey, Dorian, right?” Rowan says, pretending like he wasn’t just browsing the man’s Instagram profile merely hours ago.

Dorian laughs heartily. “Rowan, come on. We’re friends. Any friend of Aelin’s is a friend of mine.” He grins again, and Rowan can’t help but stare at his incredibly white teeth. He wonders if he whitens them. He must, because no one’s teeth are that naturally white. Or straight.

“Come sit with us!” Dorian points to their table where Aelin sits with the same two people from last night.

“Sure!” Manon says, the same time Rowan says “NO!” emphatically.

“Come on,” Dorian pleads. “We have a big table, and the place is packed. You’ll be lucky to find standing room otherwise. Please, Aelin would be horrified if I let you leave without saying hi.”

Rowan’s stomach churns, but he feels trapped. He can’t say no. “Lead the way,” he says, and Dorian smiles another blinding smile.

“Great.”

He leads them to their table, and to say that Aelin looks shocked to see Rowan approach would be an understatement.

“Look who I found!” Dorian exclaims, gesturing to Rowan and Manon, who stand next to the table awkwardly. “Chaol, Nesryn – these are two of Aelin’s friends, Rowan and Manon.”

The brunette dude, Chaol, gives Rowan a tight smile and short head nod, but the woman, Nesryn, stands and shakes both their hands politely.

Rowan and Manon slide into the two empty seats, and of course Rowan is directly across from Aelin. She looks at him curiously as he takes a large sip of his beer.

“So, how do you know Aelin?” Chaol asks, breaking the awkward silence.

“Rowan works at the park,” Dorian explains. “And Chaol is Aelin’s ex-boyfriend and my other best friend,” Dorian chuckles.

“It’s not as awkward as it sounds,” Chaol says with a laugh.

Aelin squints her eyes and looks at Chaol. “Mmm… it kind of is.”

Manon snorts. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?” she says, leaning toward Aelin, and Aelin flips her golden hair over her shoulder and shrugs.

“Two handfuls, thank you very much,” she says and feels herself up, showing how her chest spills over her hand, too much for one to grasp fully.

“Aelin!” Chaol chides, and Rowan can feel heat creep up the back of his neck as he stares at Aelin’s ample cleavage as she lifts it up.

Dorian cackles, his laugh piercing through the room as he tips his head back. He reminds Rowan of Manon when he does it, so amused with others’ discomfort.

Rowan glances back at Aelin’s chest, and when he looks up, she’s staring back at him, one brow raised in question. He immediately finishes the rest of his beer, downing it in one gulp.

“I need more beer. Anyone else?” Rowan asks, and to his surprise, Chaol stands and offers to come with him.

The pair stand side by side at the bar, waiting for their drinks, and Rowan is unsure of what to say to his current crush’s former paramour.

“So…” Chaol begins, and Rowan cocks an eyebrow at him as he leans against the bar. “You were at The Mason Jar last night,” Chaol says, naming the dive bar where he’d met up with the guys the night prior. “Aelin booked it to the bar when she saw you,” Chaol continues. “You guys, like, a thing?” he asks, curiosity seeping through his anything but innocent question.

“What?” Rowan says, bowled over. “No. Uh. Not at all.” Rowan is more than flustered. “I thought she and Dorian were…”

And at that Chaol tips his head back and guffaws. A deep, full-body belly laugh, erupts from his mouth. “Dorian?” he gapes, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. “And Aelin?” He shakes his head. “No. No no no. Never.” Chaol pauses. “They kissed once when they were thirteen, but other than that. No. Dorian is her _person_. Which is why it could never work between us, even though we tried for five fucking years,” he sighs and scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “But, no. They’re definitely not.” Chaol looks at Rowan, and Rowan feels like he’s seeing through him completely. Chaol smiles softly. “You really thought? Hmmm.”

Rowan is stunned. Seriously stunned. He has no idea how to react. Or how to process this new information. Dorian and Aelin are _not_ dating? They’re just… friends? So, Aelin is _available_? And has been flirting with Rowan for the past week, and Rowan just shot her down? Rowan rubs his forehead with his hand, which he thinks is the only thing stopping him from banging his head against the bar in shame. Rowan is an _idiot_.

An idiot who needs to apologize to Aelin. Immediately.

“This was, uh… enlightening,” Rowan says as he accepts his drink from the bartender, and Chaol can’t help but laugh again.

“Did you do something stupid?” he asks cheekily.

“So stupid,” Rowan says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, she was kind of in a mood after she came back from talking to you,” Chaol says, and Rowan groans. Chaol holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help!”

Rowan turns to him fully and examines the brunette with his concerned brown eyes and has to ask, “Not to be rude, but why?”

“Because Aelin deserves to be happy,” he says resolutely. “And I kept her from being happy for a really long time because I’m a selfish bastard,”Chaol admits way too freely. “But, how could I not?”

“You still love her,” Rowan says, and Chaol shrugs.

“I think once you love Aelin you always love her. For better or worse.”

Rowan motions to the table. “I’m gonna…”

Chaol smirks. “Yeah, get to it.”

But back at the table, Aelin and Dorian are nowhere to be found. Manon sighs, obvious to Rowan’s distress.

“She went to sign up for karaoke.”

“Oh no…” Rowan groans.

“Oh, yes,” Aelin says, bounding back to the table, exuberant.

“Don’t worry. I signed you up, too, Rowan,” Dorian says with a grin.

Aelin frowns, her eyes filled with apology. “I told him not to.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “And I told her that if Rowan wants to hang with us this summer, he’s gotta get initiated.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan says, smiling in what he hopes is a nice and not creepy way to Aelin. She looks momentarily confused, but she doesn’t have time to think about it because she’s called up to do her song with Dorian almost immediately.

The pair sing “Shallow” flawlessly. And now that Rowan knows they aren’t dating, he can see their friendship all too clearly. Aelin and Dorian love each other fiercely; their passion rages through everything they do, but it lacks a spark. It’s platonic, Rowan finally realizes. He’s been such a fucking fool.

Rowan’s name gets called next, and his stomach is is knots, wondering what song they’ve chosen for him. When he gets to the front, though, he nearly laughs. They’ve chosen a song he could sing with his eyes completely closed.

_Shorty get down, good lord… baby’s got ‘em up all over town…_

_Strictly biz she don’t play around, cover much ground, got game by the pound_

_Getting paid is her forte_

_Each and every day, true player way_

_I can’t get her out of my mind_

_Think about the girl all the time…_

He knows the song is comeuppance for calling Aelin _friendly_ last night, but he crushes it nonetheless, singing his heart out, performing for the masses. When Rowan finishes, the crowds go wild, applauding like crazy.

He sees Aelin bolt from the table before he can get back off the stage, and decides to follow her. She heads down the long hall back to the bathrooms, and his long stride helps him catch up quickly.

“Aelin!” he shouts, and he’s grateful that she pauses, but her arms are crossed over her chest, a clear defensive stance that tells him to keep his distance.

“What?” she snips, obviously pissed. They haven’t actually interacted with each other since last night, and Rowan knows she has every right to be angry with him. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? What are you even doing here, Rowan?”

“I’m an idiot,” he blurts out, and he can see Aelin’s face morph from pissed to amused. She bites her lip to hold back her smile.

“I mean, I know that, but why do you think that?” she says, her blue gold eyes glowing with challenge. He takes a step closer to her, and she backs up until she can’t back up anymore, pressed against the side of the hall. He pauses his approach, not wanting to make her feel cornered. If she wants space between them, he’ll let her have space.

“I was so out of line last night,” Rowan apologizes. “You were right. You were just trying to be friendly. I was being a dick. I thought…” Rowan pauses. He doesn’t want to be this tongue tied, but she flusters him, and he can’t get anything out how he wants to. “It’s not harassment when I want to be touched. By you.”

Aelin’s eyes narrow. She looks suspicious as she examines him. 

“I knew I was good at karaoke, but damn, I didn’t anticipate this kind of turnaround…” Aelin smirks and takes a breath, and Rowan risks taking another step forward. She holds up a hand and presses it against Rowan’s chest. He didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to her. Warmth from her palm seeps through his shirt, and he breathes heavily. She looks up into his eyes with curiosity.

“Seriously, what changed your mind?” she asks.

“If I say Chaol’s name right now it’s just going to make things weird,” Rowan says, dipping his head slightly, and he can’t help but notice her tilt her head up to him. He zeroes in on her lips, leaning down to get even closer.

“You’re right,” she says with a soft laugh. “You were still a jerk.” Her eyes flick to his lips, and Rowan darts his tongue out to wet them. 

“I know,” he breathes softly. “And I mentioned I was an idiot, right?”

Aelin nods and leans in to close the gap between them, the charge, the magnetism between them now palpable, strumming through Rowan’s body, pulling him downward. 

“Hey guysss,” Dorian drawls as he walks past them quickly, and Rowan straightens up suddenly. Aelin darts under his arm, freeing herself from being backed into the wall. He sees her take a large breath. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” Dorian looks between them, and then grabs his stomach. “I have to pee so bad. Don’t mind me!” He continues down the hall. “As you were!”

Rowan goes to finish his apology, but the moment is gone, and so is Aelin. He needs a moment to compose himself, and when he makes it back to the table, she’s already deep in conversation with Manon and Chaol and Nesryn about the latest karaoke performance. Apparently in his absence someone murdered “Bohemian Rhapsody” and not in a good way. But Aelin acknowledges Rowan’s presence with a flash of a smile, despite not breaking her conversation.

Manon side eyes Rowan suspiciously, and Rowan brushes her off. He’s not ready to talk about whatever just did or did not happen in that hallway.

Their chatter is aimless but pleasant as afternoon bleeds into evening, and eventually they all decide to disperse and head home. Rowan never gets a chance to speak to Aelin alone again, but when he and Manon are in their Uber heading home, his phone flashes with a Friend Request from Aelin Ashryver.

“Hmm,” Manon hums pointedly as Rowan bites back a smile. He spends the rest of the night in bed, scrolling through Aelin’s social media. As he’d originally planned to do with his day. Only now, he doesn’t feel as mopey or pathetic. He lets the rain, still relentless, lull him to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Aelin is going to murder her family. Okay, not actually. But, for some reason, they’ve decided they haven’t been spending enough time together, and that this week is going to be completely taken up by family activities. Which, usually Aelin would love. However, the only activity she wants to partake in is making out with Rowan Whitethorn’s face, and her family is making that physically impossible.

She opens her messenger and reads through her meager back and forth with him, explaining her lack of presence in the park. Rowan’s not a big texter, she learned. He replies in clipped answers. It’s impossible to read him. She messaged him the day after Friending him, not wanting to look too desperate, but also, she can’t stop thinking about the way her whole body pulsed as he’d leaned toward her in the brewery back hallway.

She is fairly certain she’s going to combust when she actually gets to touch him. Their chemistry is undeniable. Like two pieces of a magnet, unable to stay away from each other. She can’t believe he thinks she was dating Dorian, when she thought she’d made it so incredibly obvious she wanted to jump Rowan. And now that it’s a possibility… Her heart pounds with frustration at her family’s unintentional cockblocking.

Aelin hears Gavin and Evie squealing in the foyer, despite the early hour, which means Aedion and co. have arrived for the day. Aelin decides to descend from her room, waiting to hear what family activity awaits today. Hopefully it’s more active than yesterday’s beach day where she had nothing but free time to fantasize about all the things she wanted to do with Rowan on a beach and stress about how long he takes to reply to her messages. She did get a great base tan, though.

“Ah, look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Rhoe jokes. “Just in time to leave for the park.”

Aelin lights up. “We’re going to the park today?” She racks her brain. “But it’s not Saturday?”

Aedion ruffles her hair, earning a frown from Aelin. “How could you forget what today is, kiddo?”

“Because time has no meaning during the summer? And don’t call me kiddo, old man,” Aelin says cheekily. Aedion pokes her side, and she swats his finger away. “No, seriously, what is today?”

“It’s the Ashryver Alzheimers Foundation Fair,” Rhoe says, his tone serious. “So, let’s all be very nice to your mother today. She’s already at the park setting up.”

Aelin frowns in apology. She can’t believe she lost track of the time so much so that it’s already her mother’s charity event. Evalin spearheads the foundation. It’s her life’s passion. She created it after her own mother passed away from Alzheimers. It’s the one day of summer the park turns into more of a County Fair, filled with local food booths, a petting zoo, a fashion show, a silent auction, animal adoptions, and a big band for dancing in one of the eating tents. All the proceeds go to the foundation. Her mother works relentlessly all year long to put together the event, and it’s always incredibly fun.

Aelin takes out her phone and opens her messages again as Rhoe tells them to be ready to leave in ten minutes. She grins when she sees a message from Rowan waiting for her.

**So, am I ever going to see you again, or…**

Aelin replies too quickly. **YES! We’re actually going to the park today.**

Rowan messages back immediately. **Out of excuses to avoid me?**

Another message arrives in rapid succession. **Just kidding. I know it’s a big ~Ashryver~ day here. Lorcan is just about to give us our morning assignments. Who came up with these activities? They’re insane.**

Aelin smirks, wondering where he’ll be assigned. It’s the most Rowan has ever texted back.

**It’s for charity! And you’ll love it. I’ll see you soon :)**

**I’ll believe it when I see it.**

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Aedion hovers over Aelin’s shoulder, and Aelin clutches her phone against her chest as she whips her head around to glare at her brother.

“No one.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Aedion frowns. “It’s not Chaol again, is it?”

Aelin grumbles. “Oh my god, why does everyone always think that?”

Aedion laughs. “I don’t know, maybe because he’s been the only guy you’ve dated for the entirety of your life? Even though you keep breaking up for good reason?”

Aelin flicks him off. “It’s not Chaol. He has a new girlfriend. Thank you very much.”

“So spill.”

Aelin shakes her head.

“Nox? Cain? Archer? Mikhail?”

Aedion lists the names of Dorian’s friends, other board members’ sons, and surrounding neighbors. Of course those are the only people he would consider. Someone from the park wouldn’t even cross his mind. Mostly because her family would not approve in the slightest.

“Come on, kids, let’s go,” Rhoe calls, rushing past the siblings in the foyer and saving Aelin. She exhales quickly as they pile into the car. Since Evalin will have so much to transport at the end of the day, they forgo walking.

The park is just opening when they arrive, and they spot Evalin immediately. She works to set up signs and balloons at the entrance. Rhoe goes to stand dutifully beside her, holding her purse and other accoutrements. The woman is a whirlwind, but a productive one. The park has been transformed before Aelin’s very eyes. Aelin breathes in deeply. She can already smell the scent of roasting meats and fried dough.

“Need any help, mom?” Aelin asks, and Aelin’s never been so grateful as when Evalin shrugs her off and tells her to go find her friends.

Aelin is halfway booking it to attempt to find Rowan when Gavin and Evie run up to her, each grabbing a hand and pulling her toward the animal adoption booths. “Let’s go look at the animals, Auntie Ae!” Evie announces sweetly, and Aelin sighs. She guesses she’ll have to look for Rowan later in the day.

Aelin takes her niece and nephew through the petting zoo, giving funny voices to all the farm animals, which delights them. She gives the cow a particularly high voice, which sends Gavin into a fit of giggles. Next to the petting zoo is a long row of adoption booths, and though Aelin knows she shouldn’t, she goes and looks at the puppies.

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, looking at the little pen of small golden puppies. The attendant smiles.

“I know. They’re precious, right?” Aelin nods, her hands itching to reach out and pet them.

“Do you want to come meet them?” the attendant asks, and Aelin nearly jumps into the pen with excitement. She sits down, Gavin and Evie with her, and within seconds, they’re swarmed by little balls of yipping fur, trying to climb over them and attack them with kisses.

Aelin hugs a puppy tight to her chest, letting it lick her face. She’s so happy she could almost cry.

“Not who I thought I’d run into you kissing today,” Dorian’s voice calls from the other side of the pen. Aelin flashes him a warning glare, but Dorian just laughs. “You look like you’re in heaven, Ace.”

“I love her,” Aelin says, nuzzling the puppy in her arms.

“Ah, I was wondering where my children ran off to. We’re not getting a puppy,” Aedion says, telling his kids to get out of the pen. “You too, Aelin,” he says with a soft chuckle.

Aelin reluctantly puts the puppy back on the ground, and it starts crying immediately. “She loves me too!” Aelin’s heart tugs. “I’m sorry, puppy. I hope you find a good home,” Aelin says as she climbs out of the pen.

“We’ll be here until closing,” the attendant says with a knowing smile.

“Come on,” Dorian says. “The pig race starts in ten minutes.”

Aelin looks around, trying to spot that bright head of silver-blonde hair, but it’s nowhere to be found. Resigned, Aelin follows her family to the races.

The rest of the afternoon flies by, filled with delicious food and ridiculous activities. But with each hour that passes, Aelin becomes more and more anxious to see Rowan. By the end of the day, Aelin still hasn’t seen him anywhere. She told Dorian to keep an eye out for him, too, but they must be on opposite schedules because wherever Aelin’s family goes, Rowan is not.

“Aw, don’t frown,” Dorian coos, pushing her cheeks up into a smile. “Should I go win you a stuffed animal? Will that make you feel better?”

Aelin checks her phone. No messages from Rowan. She sighs and looks at her best friend. “Yeah, win me a giant stuffed animal, please.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “Let’s not be greedy, okay?”

Aelin laughs as they head over to the long row of games. Dorian attempts a bottle toss and fails miserably, missing each time.

“They’re glued down!” he insists, and Aelin laughs loudly.

“Sure, tell yourself that.”

“Whatever, I want to try again,” Dorian insists, but Aelin convinces him to go down the row of games, trying a new one each time. Dorian successfully fails at each and every one, and by the last one, he’s practically fuming. “They’re rigged!”

Aelin tries her hand at the bean bag toss and wins her first try. She turns to Dorian with a wide smile. “Sucker.” She hands him the small teddy bear awarded to her.

“Is this a mirage?” a low voice rumbles from behind. Rowan’s hand brushes against the small of her back, making Aelin shiver. “Or do I actually see Aelin Ashryver in front of me?”

“I’m real!” Aelin insists, spinning around quickly to see Rowan’s frowning face. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Rowan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “Really not looking forward to my final gig of the day.” He nods his head in the other direction. “I didn’t even think kissing booths were real outside movies, but apparently they are.”

Aelin is stunned silent at the words kissing booth, so much so that she doesn’t even clock Rowan saying he’ll see her later and heading to the booth. She watches as he relieves Fenrys of his duty and takes his seat behind the heart shaped awning. Aelin’s never participated in the kissing booth before, deeming it silly to pay $10 for a staff member to kiss her cheek, but the staff member giving out kisses has never been Rowan Whitethorn before.

Frantic, Aelin opens her wallet and groans. A single dollar bill sits inside. She looks up at an amused Dorian.

“Need a loan, Ace?”

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin begs. Dorian pulls out his wallet. He rummages through and pulls out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Aelin raises her eyebrows.

“It’s all I have.”

“I’ll pay you back,” she says, and Dorian’s laugh trails after her as she makes her way to the kissing booth line quickly. She can’t believe how much it’s filled up in the mere minutes since Rowan took over.

She hears the girls in front of her giggling about how cute he is, and Aelin can’t say she disagrees. She also can’t believe she’s actually doing this, but she can’t not.

When she arrives at the head of the line, Rowan looks remarkably surprised. He sits up straighter in his seat and clears his throat, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He looks up at her with his wide green eyes, and it takes all of Aelin’s self-restraint not to lean in and kiss that blush right off his face.

“Hey,” he begins, startled. “I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t?” she interrupts, a glimmer of mirth in her eyes.

He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I may have really thought you were avoiding me. Which would be totally understandable. I definitely made things weird.”

Aelin laughs. “I’ve been texting with you all week!”

“I know,” Rowan chuckles. “I just… I didn’t want to assume anything anymore.”

“I don’t think I can be any clearer than this,” Aelin says and slides over Dorian’s money.

Rowan looks up at her through his flutter of blonde eyelashes. “Aelin, this is a hundred dollar bill.” He pauses. “It only costs ten.”

“It’s for charity,” she says, hoping her confidence outweighs the pile of nerves swirling in her stomach.

Though most girls had been turning their heads to the side, giving Rowan their cheek to kiss, Aelin leans straight forward, her face head on with his. She watches his internal debate rage, his eyes flickering from her eyes and down to her lips and back up again. Aelin leans forward a smidge further, and his eyes darken. Aelin’s stomach flips, waiting for him to close the distance. She inhales and exhales uneasily, and finally, Rowan leans in and slowly presses his lips against hers. It’s soft and perfect and ends far too soon.

Aelin’s eyes flutter open. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed them. Rowan breathes heavily as he pulls away, and Aelin is satisfied to see that his blush has bloomed further on his cheeks. With how flushed she feels, she’s sure she looks similarly.

“What time does your shift end?” Aelin asks, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

Rowan looks at his watch. “Forty minutes. Why?” he asks.

Aelin leans forward, hoping her voice sounds steadier than her legs feel as she whispers, “I’m going to be waiting under the pier. And I’d like to collect on the rest of my ninety dollars.”

Rowan brings his hand to his face to cover his wide smile and nods. Electricity crackles over Aelin’s skin as she walks away, and without even looking she knows it’s because he’s watching her.

She finds her family quickly and congratulates her mom on a successful day before letting them know that she feels like walking home alone. They’re all so tired and distracted from starting clean up that Aelin’s suspicious behavior barely even registers with them. Except for Aedion who raises an eyebrow at his sister, but she waves him off, saying she just feels like some quiet time.

Aelin climbs down onto the beach and heads for her spot under the pier. The sun fades over the horizon, giving way to a beautiful bright moon. The ocean seems to glitter under it, and the sound of breaking waves soothes her as she waits. She slips off her sandals and sinks her toes into the cool sand and leans against one of the thick wooden posts of the pier’s structure. She rolls her shoulders backwards and tries to loosen up and relax, but the anticipation is killing her.

It feels like she’s waited forever when she finally hears the sound of soft footfalls approaching on the sand. She turns nervously. She wasn’t actually sure he’d show up. But there, in all his silver-headed glory, stalking towards her is Rowan.

She’s about to greet him, but she doesn’t get a chance, because before she says a word, his mouth crashes to hers. Gone is the tender, sweet kiss they’d shared an hour ago. This one is desperate, a culmination of weeks of misunderstandings and tension and heated glares. Aelin opens her mouth against his, letting him in, letting him take whatever he wants of her. Her skin feels like it’s on fire where his hands roam across the fabric of her shirt and down to her ass. Aelin groans against Rowan’s mouth and wraps her arms around his neck, not wanting any space between them.

Rowan’s strong arms reach down and lift her legs, wrapping them around her waist, and Aelin can feel him hard against her. She pulls him even closer. Now it’s Rowan’s turn to groan. It’s music to Aelin’s ears. She rocks against him again – anything to elicit that noise from his mouth again.

Rowan backs them into the wooden post and braces himself with one arm. Aelin doesn’t have time to think about how impressively strong that must make him. To hold her up with one arm and his hips, pinned against her. The wooden pole of the pier scrapes against Aelin’s back, and she hopes her family is asleep by the time she gets home otherwise they’ll have some serious questions. But Aelin’s already thrown caution to the wind. She’s burning, completely electrified by Rowan’s touch. She lets her head fall back as his open mouth trails down her bare neck.

“If you leave a mark I’ll kill you,” she manages to croak out between pants. And Rowan chuckles against her neck but doesn’t stop his affections. “I’m serious,” she breathes out. “It’s summer, and I’m not wearing a scarf.”

Rowan lets his teeth drag across her neck, gently scraping the skin, and Aelin fully shudders in his arms.

He finally pulls his face away, but doesn’t let Aelin slide out of his arms, still keeping her pinned to the wide pole.

“Hi.” He smiles, his dark eyes staring into hers. The dark pine green glows with want.

“Hi,” she says in return.

He pushes her hair, which has fallen out of her ponytail, away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. Rowan smiles wider and kisses Aelin softly again. His lips lingering on hers until they’re practically breathing into each other’s mouths.

“I told you I wasn’t avoiding you,” she mumbles quietly into the space between their lips.

“I’ll never doubt you again.” He looks at her seriously. His eyes plead with silent apology and future promises, and they slice through Aelin, making her feel something that she’s not sure she’s ever felt before.

“I want to do this with you all the time,” she says as she unhooks her legs and finally slides to stand on the ground.

Rowan chuckles, and she can feel his chest vibrating against hers. “I think we can arrange that.”

She looks up at him, and he looks right back, his gaze unwavering, and Aelin knows in this very moment that she’s in trouble.

_Oh boy._

As they resume their kissing, this time slow and languid and toe-curling, Aelin can’t help but think she’s not sure she’s ready for a Rowan Whitethorn. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get NSFW...

Rowan wakes up with a smile on his face. He stretches languorously and cringes; his arms burn from holding Aelin up for so long last night. And he can’t help but grin wider. He feels like a fucking teenager with a crush. But kissing Aelin was… it was like he’d been holding his breath underwater and finally came up for air. He feels alive.

He reaches for his phone, hoping to see a message from her, but he’s distracted by the seven missed calls from his mom. _Shit._ He knows he’s in trouble, so he calls her back immediately. The phone barely rings once before she answers.

“Rowan, baby, are you okay?” she asks, her voice strained with worry.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine.”

She pauses, and he knows she doesn’t believe him. “Let me see,” she snaps. Rowan sighs and changes the call to Facetime. He pushes himself further up in bed and lets his mom see that he’s perfectly fine.

“You didn’t call last night.” Rowan’s mother shares his same dark green eyes, and they burn into him through the screen. He rubs his hand through his sleep-mussed hair and grimaces. Dora Whitethorn is not easily stressed – she’s been through hell and then some, but Rowan is her most prized possession. Rowan feels awful.

“I know, I’m really sorry, mom.”

“We have an agreement,” Dora begins sternly. “When you live an ocean away, you have to call me once a week to check in. I don’t care how old you get, you will always have to do this, do you understand? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.” Rowan sighs. His mother, the dramatist. And he wonders why he’s always first to imagine the worst case scenario. “Take your hand away from your face, let me see you,” Dora snips, and Rowan removes his hand and brings the phone closer to his face to give her a better view. “You look… fine,” she concludes.

Rowan snorts. “That’s because I am fine.”

“Hmm.”

“I swear,” Rowan insists. “I was out with a girl last night and forgot.”

He admits this to her, only because he knows her eyes will light up with excitement at the mention of a _date_. And they do. All Dora’s worry is forgotten as she begins to babble excitedly about getting grandchildren before she dies. Rowan tells her it’s a little early for that, but she continues on and on. Rowan lets her until he sees the time, He’s going to be late for work. Before hanging up, he apologizes again for not calling. Dora shoos him off, saying that next time he has a date, all he has to do is text her. She’s a cool mom; she does know how to text. They wave goodbye, and Rowan barely has time to throw on his uniform before he’s running out the door to work.

The employee break room is completely empty when Rowan arrives, which is more than a little strange. It’s not until he rounds the corner that he sees everyone is crouched on the ground, circling Aelin, who sits on the floor with a giant grin plastered across her face.

“Rowan!” she calls out and pops up from the floor. “Come meet my new best friend.”

As she walks closer, Rowan spots a moving bundle of fur in Aelin’s arms. The golden-haired puppy squirms in her grasp, trying to kiss Aelin’s face, and Rowan can’t help but agree with the dog’s instincts. He’d like to kiss Aelin’s face, too.

“Rowan, this is Fleetfoot,” she introduces them, “Fleetfoot, this is Rowan. Cute, right?”

Rowan tentatively holds his hand out to pet the fur ball, and scratches behind the dog’s ears. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth and to the side, pleased with Rowan’s affections. “Yeah, very cute.”

Aelin laughs. “I was talking to Fleetfoot, but yes, she’s cute, too.” A wry smirk crosses her face, and Rowan feels his cheeks heat.

“So, how’d this happen?” he asks, taking a step closer to Aelin and petting the dog again – a perfect cover for hovering so close to her. “Last night, when I left you, you did not have a dog.”

The smallest, most adorable pout forms on Aelin’s lips, and her blue-gold eyes look up at him, wide. “Didn’t you read my messages?”

“Ah, no…” Rowan admits. “I was on the phone with my mom all morning.”

Rowan takes out his phone and sees the long string of messages from Aelin, starting from last night.

**Thanks for tonight. Sleep well. Dream of me ;)**

**Good morning! I hope you’re not allergic to dogs because…**

**< cute photo of puppy>**

**Yes, that puppy is mine.**

**We met yesterday at the adoption booth and fell in love.**

**It was fate.**

**Dorian sneakily went to my parents and asked if he could get her for me.**

**THEY SAID YES (obviously)**

**Her name is Fleetfoot.**

**I’m bringing her to the park right now to meet everyone.**

**See you soon!!!**

Rowan looks back up at Aelin and smiles. “Okay, I’m caught up.”

“And?” Aelin asks, batting her eyes.

“And what?” Rowan asks.

Aelin leans in and whispers, “Did you dream of me?”

Rowan’s pulse starts to race as he remembers the way Aelin’s mouth felt on his, the way her soft curves felt surrounding him, her hands reaching everywhere and anywhere all at once, consuming him. His memories are interrupted by a squeaky yelp from Fleetfoot, and Aelin coddles her, shushing her in her arms.

“Oh, you didn’t like me not paying attention to you for one minute?” she coos, and Fleetfoot goes back to being contented under Aelin’s focused gaze.

“Tell me about it, pup,” Rowan says with a chuckle, and he watches as its Aelin’s turn to blush.

“Speaking of,” she says. “I was thinking maybe you’d want to, um, hang out? Tonight? At my house?” She gnaws at the skin of her lip. “My parents are going to be at this big board dinner thing until way late, and I’ll be all alone in my house…”

Rowan’s throat dries, and he gulps, trying to swallow, but his voice still comes out sounding hoarse as he replies, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Great,” she beams.

“Great,” Rowan echoes back at her.

“Aelin,” Lorcan growls, rounding the corner to where the pair are standing. “What the hell is that?” He frowns. “You know you can’t have a non-service animal on park grounds.”

Aelin rolls her eyes a the grumpy manager. “She was literally adopted on park grounds. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday is over,” Lorcan grumbles. “Today we’re back to park rules and regulations. Which means no dogs.”

“Someone’s extra spicy this morning,” Aelin says under her breath bravely, and Rowan thinks Lorcan might lunge at her. “Fine, fine. We’re leaving.” She grabs the puppy’s paw and waves it at Rowan. “We’ll see you later.”

Rowan almost asks Lorcan if he’s okay, but Lorcan silences him with a glare and sends him off to sell tickets at the entrance.

The morning flies by. He sells tickets with Elide, who is in a shockingly chipper mood. She chats with every patron, who approaches the tent, and has a friendly smile and anecdote for them. He notices Lorcan skulk by the tent several times to check on him, and each time he does, Elide seems to smile harder and become more energetic in her customer service. It’s bizarre, but it keeps Rowan entertained for hours.

The afternoon, however, seems to drag on forever. He’s on maintenance, so Rowan has to go from ride to ride fixing whatever goes wrong. Which, with a hundred-year-old park, is a lot. The long flume chain gets stuck, and he has to wade into the water and fix it. One of the stirrups on the carousel comes loose, and he has to reattach it. It seems like the fixes are never ending. Until finally, _finally_ , the day is over.

Rowan immediately grabs his phone and turns it on to see a quick message from Aelin.

**Call me when you’re off!**

Rowan picks up his phone and calls her as he heads to the parking lot.

“Hey, thanks for calling,” Aelin rambles. “I just didn’t want to leave you a giant message about how to get to my house.”

Rowan laughs. “I’ve been to your house before. I know how to get there.”

Aelin pauses. “Right. Totally. But, um, I think it’s probably better to walk here via the beach? I’d say you could park in the driveway,” she rattles on, “But my neighbors are such nosy assholes. They’d definitely ask my parents whose truck was here, and I’d really prefer if my parents didn’t know about, uh, this.” She pauses again, and Rowan can practically see her biting her lip. “Is that okay?”

Rowan doesn’t care. Park here, park there. He just wants to see her. Now. 

“Yeah,” he replies and listens closely as Aelin explains how to get in through the beach.

The walk is short, as she promised, barely even fifteen minutes. And Rowan swings open the garden gate on the side of the house, as he did all those days ago. He can’t believe how much circumstances have changed since then.

He walks past the glowing pool and to the back glass doors. Aelin slides it open and smiles. “Welcome,” she says, ushering him in. Rowan walks into the house awkwardly, unsure if he should welcome her with a kiss or a hug or anything. He settles on nothing, but the tension remains thick around them.

“Want a house tour?” Aelin asks, and Rowan nods. “It’s kind of nuts. Ashryver Estate is also a hundred years old, but it has been modified a ton.”

Despite the beautiful house, Rowan can’t take his eyes off Aelin. She’s barefoot and bare faced, so he can see a smattering of freckles across her nose, fresh from her time in the sun this week. Her hair is up, and she looks effortlessly comfortable in a tank top and gym shorts. Fleetfoot follows at her heels. She leads them through foyer and into the grand dining room. She opens a door to a library, filled to the brim with books, and heads through a long passageway, which opens into a formal sitting room.

“This shit is like the Clue house,” Rowan laughs.

“You have no idea,” Aelin says. “The lower floor is even worse. There’s a home theater down there, but it has a door to a wine cellar, walk in humidor, and a bowling alley.”

“You’re joking,” Rowan says, his eyes wide with disbelief, but Aelin simply shakes her head. He suddenly feels intimidated again, but he tries to shake the wave of insecurity as Aelin puts a now sleeping Fleetfoot into her crate. Aelin wants him here.

“Now, upstairs?” Aelin asks, and Rowan motions for her to go up first. Aelin sasses him over her shoulder. “You just want a view of my ass.”

Rowan laughs but can’t deny it.

They tour the upstairs quickly. There’s not much there besides Aelin’s room and two guest rooms. One of which used to be Aedion’s and one that Dorian stays in when he wants to escape his shitty family, she explains. Her parents have the whole third floor to themselves, and she offers Rowan the chance to go see the master suite, but he declines. With nowhere left to tour, she heads into her bedroom. They both cross the threshold and close the door behind them.

Rowan examines the room. It’s breathtaking, though it doesn’t exactly scream Aelin. He wonders what her room in her real home looks like. Where does she live during the rest of the year? He doesn’t actually know. This room is light blue, with a giant window that he knows opens out into a balcony that overlooks the ocean and the garden below. A wide screen television sits on a dresser across from the piece de resistance of the room, a giant California king bed with a fluffy white comforter.

Aelin sits on the bed and tucks her legs under her nervously. Rowan kicks his shoes off and joins her, sitting next to her and leaning against the quilted headboard.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asks, twirling her hair. Rowan shakes his head no. “Good,” she laughs as she leans in and kisses him.

What starts off gentle soon becomes heated. It’s as if when they’re together, a switch is flipped, and their bodied need to be locked together, melded together, touching everywhere. Rowan’s arm wraps around Aelin’s waist as he hoists her onto his lap. Her legs rest of either side of his thighs, and he can feel her heat through the thin fabric of her shorts. When she tilts her hips into him, he can feel himself grow hard against her, and he delights in the small whimper that escapes her mouth.

His hands go to the hem of her shirt, and he pauses for confirmation that it’s okay to pull it off. But Aelin doesn’t have the patience for that. She pushes his hands away and removes the shirt herself. Just as quickly, she unhooks her bra, revealing her bare chest to him, and Rowan dives in and kisses the soft skin of her cleavage. His kisses are wet and sloppy, and he can feel Aelin’s heart pounding against his lips. He kisses up her neck again, letting his hands replace the spot where his mouth was. Aelin was wrong. She might be two handfuls for herself, but she’s a perfect handful for him.

His thumbs rub across her breasts as his mouth reaches anywhere and everywhere it can, peppering kisses across her flushed skin.

Aelin claws at his back, pulling his shirt up, but with them in their current position, her still straddling his lap and attached at the chest, she can’t get it above his arms.

She pulls back, frustrated, her lips already swollen and her eyes blown out with desire.

“Help me out here, Rowan,” she whines, and Rowan laughs as he reaches behind him and pulls his uniform shirt off with one swift tug. Aelin runs her hands down his bare chest, her eyes following the path of her hands. “Much better,” she says with a smirk.

Skin to skin, she pulls him down on top of her, rolling them so she’s lying back on her pillow. She lifts her hips and kicks off her shorts quickly and Rowan groans as their limbs twine together. Her body against his is too much, and he needs a breather, otherwise this night will be over far too soon. He kisses down her stomach, giving himself some space. He trails further down, kissing the skin of Aelin’s thigh. He lightly brushes his lips against her underwear, when he feels her freeze.

He glances up from between her legs. Aelin’s propped up on her elbows, looking at him with an indiscernible look in her eyes.

“Oh, um… you don’t have to do… that,” she says. Rowan furrows his brow and sits up.

“Sorry, am I moving too fast? We can stop,” Rowan says, but the frustrated flash in Aelin’s eyes lets him know he’s said the wrong thing.

“No.” Aelin frowns. “It’s not that. I invited you over to hook up,” she laughs breathily. “I just—” Rowan can see her getting flustered. “I don’t like _that_.”

Rowan cocks an eyebrow at her. “You don’t… like it?”

Aelin groans and tugs at her hair. She looks up at her ceiling, avoiding Rowan’s prying gaze. “Chaol tried to go down a few times, and it just felt awkward and did absolutely nothing for me.” She looks back down, and Rowan’s lips unwittingly curl into a smile. He kisses her thigh again.

“Did you ever consider,” Rowan says between slow kisses, dragging up her inner thigh. “That Chaol was bad at it? And that with someone else… it might be enjoyable?”

“No?” Aelin squeaks, chuckling softly.

Rowan’s fingers dance lightly up and down Aelin’s thighs as he smirks. “Give me like, thirty seconds, and if you still don’t like it, we can stop.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.”

Rowan ignores her jibe and tells her to lean back. She does willingly, but he can tell she’s still tense and nervous. He can’t even fathom what kind of idiot dates a girl for five years and doesn’t learn how to go down on her.

He continues running his hands up and down her thighs, slowly widening them as he lowers himself to her center. He kisses over the fabric of her underwear softly at first, then again and again until he feels her start to relax. Once she starts to move her hips in time with his mouth, he swipes his tongue over the fabric.

“Oh,” Aelin gasps, and Rowan internally smiles. He runs his tongue over the fabric again. Doing the exact same slow licks that relaxed her, until he can feel her start to squirm, her hips tilting up into his mouth, trying to gain more friction.

Rowan pops up his head. “Do you want me to stop?”

Aelin lifts her hips and kicks off her underwear. “You better fucking not,” she says, and Rowan chuckles out loud at that.

Rowan ducks back down and explores her bare skin with his mouth and tongue, relishing in each small sigh and groan that escapes Aelin’s lips. When she moans his name, he thinks he might die. Her hands find purchase in his hair, tugging him closer. As if he would go anywhere. He’s in heaven. As she bucks her hips into his mouth, he adds his fingers, which slide through her wetness easily. She’s so wet and warm and Rowan knows exactly how to bring her to the edge, his fingers curling inside her. He doesn’t stop until her thighs are shaking and she calls out his name loudly into the silent room. Her legs finally give out as she finishes, falling open, unable to keep them up anymore.

As Aelin comes back down, Rowan kisses his way back up her stomach, which is now coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Okay,” Aelin pants, her face still blissed out with pleasure. “You win. Maybe I _do_ like that.”

Her hand darts out for Rowan’s hardness, still encased in his shorts, but she’s still exhausted from her orgasm and can barely hold her arm up. Rowan rolls over onto the comforter next to her and faces her, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face.

“Don’t strain yourself,” he says with a laugh, and Aelin rolls her eyes but there’s nothing but delight behind her expression. She reaches out again when—

“Aelin!” a voice shouts in the distance. “We’re home!”

At that, Aelin glances at the clock and swears. Neither of them had realized how late it had gotten, too wrapped up in each other. Rowan looks at Aelin’s panicked expression and scrambles to reach for his shirt.

“Out the window?” she whispers as she rushes to put on her discarded clothes, which are strewn haphazardly around her bed. “I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

Rowan tosses his clothes back on. “It’s fine.”

“Thank you for tonight,” she says, kissing him quickly.

“It was my pleasure,” he says with a wink, and Aelin can’t resist kissing him again, filling Rowan’s heart with joy.

“Okay, go,” she says, shooing him out to the balcony and shutting the door behind him. He hears her call out to her parents as he climbs over the balcony edge and skitters down the trellis. He exits through the garden gate he has a feeling he will be becoming well acquainted with.

When he makes it to the beach, he takes out his phone as he enjoys the warm summer breeze on his sweaty skin.

**How about you come to my place tomorrow?**

Aelin’s reply is instant. **I thought you’d never ask.**

Rowan doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW again...

Rowan pushes the couch aside as he vacuums. He’s horrified by the thick layer of dust residing under it. He can’t remember the last time he or Manon have actually done anything other than tidy their small apartment.

“Wow, Aelin should come over all the time, if you’re going to clean like this,” Manon shouts over the loud buzz of the vacuum.

Rowan doesn’t even look up; he just flips her off as he keeps cleaning. Aelin is supposed to come over in less than an hour, and he still has to finish cleaning and showering. Rowan puts the vacuum away, satisfied with his work. The place has been dusted, cloroxed, swept, mopped and now vacuumed. A productive day off from work, if he says so himself. He wipes the beads of sweat from his brow.

“I’m going out to dinner,” Manon informs him, crossing through the living room. “I’ll come back and head straight to my room and put my headphones in. Just…keep your activities in your own room, mmkay?”

Rowan laughs. “Don’t fuck on the couch. Got it.”

Manon feigns gagging. ”Classy. Ugh, heteros.”

Rowan finally looks up and takes in Manon’s outfit. She’s wearing a dark red cropped tank top and her tightest pair of black jeans. Rowan crosses his arms and smirks.

“You’re pretty dressed up for dinner, Man.” Rowan pauses. “Are you going on a date?”

“Worry about yourself, Whitethorn. And take a shower because you fucking stink.”

Rowan wants to find out who Manon’s date is with, but she does have a point. With the clock ticking, he bids her goodnight and hops into the shower. Under the warm spray of the water, Rowan thinks about his own night ahead and his erection makes a sudden appearance. He debates ignoring it, but figures that if he’s going to last more than five minutes tonight, he may as well attend to it now. Thinking about being inside Aelin has him coming in less than two, and he’s shaky with relief.

Rowan is just finishing putting on his clothes when he hears a knock at the door. He swings it open, and Aelin smiles nervously on the other side, dressed up in a sundress. He welcomes her in, hoping she doesn’t think the apartment is too small or cramped or dingy. He knows it’s a far cry from her seaside estate.

“It’s not much but…”

Aelin shrugs him off with a wide smile. “I love it.” She links his arm through his and leans into his side. “Don’t I get a tour?”

Rowan leads her through the small two-bedroom apartment. The living room is merely a few steps, he leads her around the couch that’s seen better days and shows off the television that sits across from it. A few steps around the corner is the small galley kitchen. Its wooden cabinets don’t quite close all the way from being warped from hot summers and too cold winters, but it does have a dishwasher.

Rowan turns toward Aelin and places his hands on her hips. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asks, and she surprises him by reaching up on her tippy toes and pulling him down into a kiss.

He expects it to be soft and sweet, a quick hello, but Aelin has other thoughts. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and deepens the kiss as far as she can. Her hands reach for his hair, and Rowan’s hands slip beneath the curve of her ass, as he lifts her up and places her on the kitchen counter. He stands between her legs, letting Aelin kiss him to her heart’s content. When she’s had her fill, she pulls away, an unstoppable giggle bubbling from her. Her long hair falls in a curtain in front of her face as she looks down into her lap.

“I’m so sorry,” she says through laughter, clearly embarrassed.

Rowan leans against the counter and lets his hands trail up her legs. “For what?”

She looks up at him, her blue eyes glowing with mischief. “For attacking you. You’re just so hot. I can’t stop myself.” Rowan barks out a laugh, and she slaps him on the chest playfully.

“Thank you?” He looks at her flushed cheeks and runs a finger down it, relishing in the heat he finds there.

“I think you should take me to your room immediately,” she says confidently, all traces of her former embarrassment gone.

“You don’t want anything to eat? Or drink?” he asks.

“After,” she says with a wink.

Rowan doesn’t need to be told twice. He scoops Aelin off the counter, and she laughs against his lips as he carries her into his room. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light as he tosses her down on his bed and climbs over her. Even in the dark, he can see Aelin’s hair spilled over his pillow and something primal in him snaps. He tugs at her clothes, helping her remove them in a frenzy as they get thrown across the room and onto his bedroom floor.

His clothes are shed just as quickly, and soon they’re skin to skin again. Her skin pebbles under his touch, and his mouth descends onto her, kissing anywhere he can. He reaches down and feels how damn wet she is already. His fingers enter her, and she bucks her hips into his hand. Her hands reaches down and circles his erection, and he groans into her shoulder. She feels so damn good, too good. With just her bare hand on him. They stroke each other, both slowly moving their hips against hands as they pant into each other’s skin. He knows he needs to be inside her soon, otherwise, this will be over before it begins. Aelin’s lips trail along his chest and collarbone, and he shudders.

Rowan leans over to his nightstand and reaches into his box of condoms. And reaches. And reaches.

He pulls away from Aelin, fully sitting up, and swings his legs over the side of the bed to reach into the back of his box of condoms.

“Rowan?”

“No…no, no, no…” he groans. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Aelin kneels behind him on the bed, running her hands up his back. She rests her chin on his shoulder and kisses his neck. He hangs his head in shame before turning to her and kissing her lips fully.

“I’m so sorry. I’m… out of condoms.”

Aelin freezes against him. “You’re…” She bursts into laughter, muffling it in the skin of his shoulder. “You literally invited me over to have sex and didn’t check to make sure you had condoms? How are you supposed to be my fuck buddy if we don’t get to the fucking bit?”

She pokes his waist, and Rowan rubs at his face with his hands.

“I know. I’m an idiot.” And he really is. How could he have prepared so thoroughly and not bothered to check how many condoms he had left? Never has there ever been a more idiotic man on the face of the earth than Rowan Whitethorn at this moment.

Aelin laughs as she hops off the bed and scoops up her clothes.

“What are you doing?”

She throws his clothes back at him. “Get dressed. We’re going to the pharmacy.” She looks at the glowing clock next to Rowan’s bed. “And hurry, because it closes in less than thirty minutes.”

Rowan can’t believe how forgiving Aelin is being of his complete incompetence, so he dresses quickly, and within minutes they’re downstairs in his truck, heading to the pharmacy in town.

Inside, they split up. Aelin says she’s going to get snacks for sustenance, and Rowan heads immediately for condoms. He gets the largest box they have – a 36 pack and heads to the register.

He stops as he approaches, seeing Aelin chatting in line with a familiar brunette. Aelin’s eyes widen as he approaches.

“Rowan! Fancy seeing you here,” she says with a smile. “Well, isn’t this the place to be on a Saturday night?”

Elide turns to smile at Rowan. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re in a tiny town, huh? Terrasen’s hottest club is CVS.”

Rowan nods and awkwardly angles the box of condoms behind his back.

“What was so desperate you needed to come before closing?” Elide asks, and Rowan’s cheeks heat.

“Uhm…”

“I had a chocolate emergency,” Aelin interrupts, and Rowan and Elide look at the snack haul in Aelin’s basket. It’s filled with about ten different kinds of chocolate candies, some chips and a pint of ice cream.

“Understandable,” Elide quips. “I was out of shampoo,” she says, holding up her bottle as she steps up to the single register. She pays quickly. “It was nice running into you both,” she says with a smile and heads out, and as she exits Rowan exhales.

The pair pay for their goods and head back to Rowan’s truck, and only then does Aelin start laughing hysterically.

“You don’t think she knows we were here together, right?” Aelin asks, slightly panicked, and Rowan shrugs.

He speeds back to his apartment as fast as he can as Aelin shuffles through radio channels impatiently. They make it back to Rowan’s place in record time, and their lips are attached before the front door even closes behind them.

“What did I say about keeping your activities to your own room?” Manon says from the kitchen, making Rowan and Aelin split apart at lightning speed. Aelin smiles weakly at his intimidating platinum-haired roommate.

“Date didn’t go well, I take it?” Rowan jibes, and Manon looks unamused. “We’re going to my room right now,” Rowan says with a sigh.

“I’ll be in my room with my headphones in, watching _The Fast and Furious_ ,” Manon says pointedly. “The movie is two hours.”

“But it has like nine sequels,” Rowan says, flashing her a cheeky smile. Manon waves them off, and Rowan easily pulls Aelin with him into his room.

He pulls out his box of condoms and puts it into his nightstand and tosses the empty one into the trash, feeling disappointed. He knows the vibe of their night has completely changed, and he’s to blame.

“I’m so sorry. Is the mood totally ruined?” Rowan asks, but when he turns around, Aelin is already on his bed, her clothes nowhere to be seen.

“What do you think?” she asks, her voice breathy, and Rowan has never undressed faster in his entire life. Aelin giggles as he flops onto the bed next to her, and Rowan feels buoyant as her face lights up at his proximity. How did he manage to get this lucky? To get this beautiful, whip-smart woman in his bed.

“Come here.” His voice is low and strained as he pulls Aelin close to him. Their legs twine, and he runs his hand over the smooth expanse of her back as their lips lock again, slowly and surely. He feels between her legs again and delights in her wet warmth, enveloping his fingers as her lips move against his.

When Aelin finally comes around his fingers, moaning against this mouth with heated cries, Rowan reaches over to his condoms.

He rolls it on and Aelin’s chest heaves as she waits for him, her hair once again splayed over his pillow.

“Please,” she whispers, and Rowan stares down at her, his breath leaving him as he finally enters her slowly.

Filthy swears escape their lips as Rowan fills her entirely. Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever felt something so perfect. He’s not exactly a monk, but no one has ever felt like this – like two pieces meant to be joined. Aelin called them magnetic, destined to be drawn to each other, and as he moves against her, he can’t help but feel that’s the absolute truth. They fit together with ease. None of the awkwardness of a new partner, just their hips moving in perfect tandem.

Rowan expected their first time to be frantic, over in mere minutes, but once he’s inside her, the world seems to slow down. He wants to be there forever. Their unhurried rhythm fills the room with sounds of sighs and heavy breathing, rather than the heavy sound of slapping skin. Rowan can’t look away from her as he moves – her eyes are closed and her mouth is open. Their pleasure twines and melds together in the room. A perfect harmony of desire.

Her nails dig into his back, but he can’t feel anything but ecstasy. He hitches one of her legs over his side, and her eyes blink open, finally locking with his. His arms create a cage around her as he moves faster, causing her to gasp and close her eyes again.

She comes with only the warning of, “I’m—” and Rowan follows quickly after. He’s in no rush to pull away from her and kisses her face again and again, until she’s laughing beneath him.

“Wow,” Aelin says, and Rowan’s laugh vibrates against her.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she reiterates, making his ego soar.

“Should we shower?” Rowan asks, but Aelin shakes her head.

“No, I can’t move yet.” Her body sinks into the bed further.

Rowan chuckles and kisses her one more time before finally pulling out of her and throwing the condom into the trash.

“Let’s eat snacks and watch a movie,” Aelin suggests, and Rowan agrees, happy to do whatever she wants. She asks to borrow a shirt, and he throws her the first one in his drawer before flipping on the small lamp on his nightstand.

Aelin examines the shirt as she puts it on. “Army?” she asks with a lifted eyebrow.

“Uh yeah,” Rowan says, stepping into his boxers. “ROTC was the only way I could pay for college.”

Aelin looks thoughtful as she looks back up at him. “I guess now that we have the fuck part down, we should probably work on the buddy part, huh?” She chuckles. “I know absolutely nothing about your life.”

Rowan agrees as he climbs back onto the bed. “I was thinking that last night,” he says. “I don’t even know where you live most of the year,” he admits.

“Oh,” Aelin says, startled. “I live in Rifthold.”

Rowan’s stomach sinks slightly. Rifthold is hours away from Terrasen. “That’s, uh… far from here. What do you do there?”

Aelin rolls onto her side and Rowan slinks down to face her. “Are you going to judge me if I tell you I’m still figuring that out?” Rowan shakes his head, urging her to continue. “I did a post-grad travel year, and then I kinda just hung out for a year. I’m supposed to use this summer to decide what the hell I want to do with my life.”

Rowan errantly thinks she should consider doing him for the rest of her life, but the thought is pushed away as soon as it appears.

“So, what did you do for the army?” she asks as she locks her leg with his again. He runs his hand up her bare thigh, relishing in her soft skin.

“I was a computer scientist for the department of defense.” Aelin’s eyes widen, looking impressed with him. “I had to be discharged early, though, to take care of my mom. She was, uh, really sick. But she recovered miraculously,” he clarifies. “I came to Terrasen about two years ago for a start up job, but they went under just a few months after I started, and… no one else seems to want to hire an out of work vet who spent a year taking care of his mom, I guess. So I’ve just been hopping from one job to another until I can find one that sticks. It’s sucked,” he says with a laugh. ”But I guess I can’t be mad about this one. Since I met you.” 

“Hmm,” Aelin hums as she trails a finger up his bare arm. He’d give anything to know the thoughts going on behind those blue eyes. They darken, stormy from the intel Rowan’s just dropped. “Yeah, I’m not mad about that either.” She smiles.

She closes her eyes as Rowan’s hand trails higher under the Army shirt, skimming her hip.

“Hey, Rowan?” She opens her eyes again, and she looks uncomfortable for the first time all night. Rowan’s fingers don’t stop moving as she talks.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay with keeping this between us, right?” His fingers finally still on her hip. “Like, obviously Dorian knows. And Manon, too. But, I just got out of such a long term relationship, and I don’t want anyone misunderstanding what’s going on with us. Like, this is low-key and fun and for the summer, right?” Her voice is hurried and high-pitched, and her brow furrows as she talks.

“Right…” Rowan says. It’s not exactly what he’d thought, but he’s fine to let Aelin do whatever she’s comfortable with. He must not have as good a poker face as he thinks he does because Aelin’s nose crinkles as she leans closer.

“I mean, I’m leaving at the end of the summer, and like you said, Adarlan isn’t exactly close. I just assumed this was casual—” 

“Aelin.” He puts his finger against her lips, shushing her rambling. “We’re good. I can do casual. And private. I don’t need anyone at the park knowing about my sex life anyway.”

Aelin smiles, relieved, and it twists in Rowan’s stomach.

“You were really stressed about that, huh,” Rowan says, comforting her, his hands resuming their slow trail up and down her thigh again.

“Yeah,” Aelin chuckles. “I was. I just didn’t know your expectations. You give off a serial monogamist vibe.”

Rowan rolls his eyes. “I’ll have you know I haven’t had a girlfriend since college. But as you might remember, my box of condoms was empty.”

Aelin laughs. “Okay, okay, I get it. I was worried over nothing.” She pauses and looks at him, staring into his eyes. Once again, he wonders what she sees. She sighs. “I want to kiss your face again.”

Rowan scoots closer to her on the bed. “I thought you wanted your snacks and to watch a movie.”

Aelin kisses him softly. “I lied,” she mumbles against his mouth.

“Whatever the lady wants,” he says and turns off the light, plunging the room back into darkness. Their bodies draw together like magnets again, and they don’t stop until they fall asleep many, many hours later.


	10. Chapter 10

If there’s one thing Rowan has learned in the last few days, it’s that Aelin _loves_ sneaking around. Maybe it’s the intimacy of sharing a secret, or maybe it’s just the way Rowan allows his touch to linger just enough to leave promises of the future – but Aelin’s barely let him out of her sight since she left his bed, greedy for more.

This is how they end up in the break room bathroom during Rowan’s lunch break. They were supposed to just sit together as Rowan ate his lunch, but as Aelin’s eyes darken as they watch his lips wrap around his fork, he knows her restraint is about to break. When a drop of dressing drips onto his finger and his tongue darts out to lick it off, she grabs his hand and drags him into the closest room with a lock.

The bathroom is cramped and dirty, but Aelin doesn’t seem fazed. Rowan chuckles as she kisses her way up his neck. She hops onto the pedestal sink to get better leverage, but the unsteady porcelain rocks slightly beneath her. Rowan grips the sides and stops it from swaying any further, never stopping his soft laughter.

“I’m not having sex in this filthy bathroom,” Rowan snickers, though his hands make their way to her waist, anchoring her against him. 

Aelin scrapes her teeth against his jawline and runs her tongue against his stubble. Goosebumps raise on the back of his neck under her hands, and she smirks, satisfied.

“You sure?” she asks, and Rowan groans as he pulls away from her, breathing hard.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

Aelin hops off the sink and sashays toward him, like a predator stalking her prey. He backs up with every step, until his back is pressed against the door. He slides his hands into the back pockets of her jean shorts and exhales, shakily using all his restraint. 

“I swear we will finish this later,” he says and leans down to kiss her softly. “I’m coming over tonight,” he reminds her.

“But my parents will be home, so we’ll have a Dorian chaperone until super late,” Aelin whines.

Rowan frowns at the mention of her parents and Dorian – he’d forgotten about that little detail. But he shakes it off and remains resolute. “I’ll make it worth the wait. But I _have_ to eat before my afternoon shift. You know I get hangry.”

Aelin winks saucily. “I’ve got something for you to eat.”

Rowan’s cheeks heat as he pulls her closer. He peers down at her, his green eyes both amused and horrified. “I’ve created a monster.”

“You have no one but yourself to blame,” she says as she rests her chin against his chest. Their heads lean towards each other, that magnetic pull raging, and meet in one last reckless kiss.

“Food,” Rowan breaths.

“Fine,” Aelin agrees with a roll of her eyes. “Wait like five seconds to come out. Just in case.”

Aelin slips out the bathroom door, and Rowan takes a second to breathe and adjust himself. That woman will kill him. He counts to five slowly before exiting the bathroom himself. He slinks back to the table, avoiding looking up at Aelin, who’s now mid-conversation with Elide.

“…do you mind? My phone is at 5%, and I can’t find a charger anywhere.” Aelin plugs her phone into the wall, and Rowan wonders at how easily Aelin can lie on her feet.

“Rowan!” Elide calls out. “You eating lunch?” He nods stiffly. “Mind if I join you?” she asks, and Rowan gestures for her to take a seat.

“So, what’s everyone up to tonight?” Elide asks innocently, because she has no idea the implications of the answers of her question.

“I was actually going to see if you wanted to come over?” Aelin asks, and Rowan trains his face into a neutral stare, wondering what the hell Aelin is doing. It’s bad enough that Rowan is going to have to share Aelin’s time with Dorian tonight. At least Dorian knows about them. With Elide there, they won’t even be able to touch each other. “Dorian’s coming over for a movie night, but who knows what he’ll make me watch,” Aelin continues, oblivious to Rowan’s plight.

Elide is touched and thanks Aelin for the invite, but declines. She already has dinner plans. But the pair of them excitedly pencil each other in for the weekend – for some girl time and catching up. Rowan sits quietly and finishes his salad as the two of them chatter about how much they miss the other, relieved that Aelin somehow knew Elide wouldn’t take her up on her offer.

At the end of his break, Aelin grabs her phone from the wall and bids the pair goodbye, leaving Elide with a hug and a small squeeze to Rowan’s arm. He smiles after her, hoping to spot Aelin around the park in the afternoon. But he never does.

For the first time, Rowan drives up the Ashryver’s long driveway. He’s changed out of his uniform and into a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but he’s nervous nonetheless. There’s something about being in this house that makes his stomach churn. Aelin opens the door before he finishes knocking and flings herself into his arms for a tight hug. He nods hello to Dorian, who watches their interaction with interest.

“Aelin,” a voice calls from the kitchen. “Please come say hi before you disappear for the night.”

Aelin apologizes and leads the boys into the kitchen where her parents are already seated at the table for dinner.

“Mom, Dad, you remember Rowan?”

Rowan smiles politely. “Thanks so much for having me In your home again, Mr. and Mrs.—”

Rhoe cuts Rowan off. “Please. Call us Rhoe and Evalin.”

Rowan scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll try.”

“Aelin Ashryver Galathinius!” Evalin scolds from the other side of the table as Aelin reaches onto her dad’s plate with her fingers and plops a large piece of potato salad into her mouth.

“Iss mah favorite,” she says around her mouthful, and Rowan can’t help but chuckle.

Evalin’s brow furrows as she chides her daughter. “You know the rule. If you want Emrys’ food, you have eat it at the table with us.”

Aelin looks at her company with questioning eyes. Dorian and Rowan shrug in near unison, letting her decide. Rowan isn’t exactly fond of the idea of having unexpected dinner with her parents, but Aelin seems to want to, and he’ll do whatever she wants.

Aelin slinks into her seat, and the boys follow her lead, Rowan taking the seat next to her. Rhoe grins widely. “Wine?” he asks, holding up a bottle of Sancerre.

Aelin looks around the table. “My favorite meal. My favorite wine.” She looks at her parents. “What do you want?”

Rhoe chuckles as he fills her glass. “Is it not enough to want to spend time with our beautiful daughter and her lovely friends?” he asks, but Aelin’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

“No.”

“Drinks first,” Evalin turns to Rowan as she stands from the table. “Rowan, I know Dorian prefers beer. Can I get you one, or is wine okay?” she asks. “Or we have a full bar if you want something completely different, or sodas or lemonade or sparkling water if you’re not a drinker.”

“Beer is great,” Rowan says.

“IPA? Hef? Stout?” she asks, reaching into a fridge tucked into the base of the large kitchen island.

Rowan is overwhelmed by the choices. He usually grabs Coors Lite from the grocery and is done with it. He’s not a fancy drinker by any means. As if sensing his distress, Aelin reaches out beneath the table and places her hand on his knee and squeezes lightly.

“We know what Dorian wants,” Aelin says with a laugh, diffusing his discomfort. “IPA, like every other former frat boy in the country.”

“Excuse me – it’s delicious,” Dorian says with a wide grin, “And I will not be shamed for being in a fraternity, Ms. Ashryver. Some of us had a four-generation legacy to uphold.”

Rowan relaxes as he tells Evalin he’ll try an IPA, and Rhoe turns to Dorian and questions him about his father, speaking of legacies.

As the conversation continues, Rowan slides his hand under the table and finds Aelin’s hand still on his knee. He lifts it up and laces his fingers with hers, thanking her for helping him. She swipes her thumb along the backside of his hand, a silent _you’re welcome._

Dinner is far more painless than Rowan suspected it would be. He participates in the conversation occasionally, but he’s more than happy to let Aelin and Dorian to do most of the heavy lifting. He’s mostly pleased she doesn’t remove her hand from his knee the entire time. After their fourth beer, Evalin sternly tells the boys they should not plan on driving home.

Rowan’s hand stills on Aelin’s. “Dorian, you have your room, and Rowan, you can take Aedion’s old room. And Rowan, please feel free to join us any time. We love having Aelin’s friends over.”

Rowan smiles and nods. “Thank you, Evalin.” She wraps him into a long hug, and though he’s startled, he can’t help but return it.

As they separate, Evalin turns to Dorian, who is ducked down into the island fridge, pulling out a handful of beers.

“If we’re not driving…” he says with a cheeky smile, and Evalin shakes her head at him.

“Aelin,” Rhoe pipes up, and Aelin turns toward her father, who finishes the dregs of his wine glass with a long sip.

Aelin shouts. “I knew it!”

Rowan stares, perplexed, and Rhoe laughs. “Know what?”

“I don’t know, but I know there’s something to know. I knew this meal was suspicious,” she rambles.

Rhoe sighs, exasperated with his daughter, making Rowan smile. At least Aelin exasperates everyone, not just him.

“You know the Cortlands,” Rhoe begins.

“Our neighbors?” Aelin asks. “Yes, Dad. I know the Cortlands.”

Rhoe continues on. “The Cortland’s nephew, Sam, is coming here for a few weeks. He’s just around your age. You probably don’t remember him. He used to come here when he was very little. You two used to make sandcastles together.”

Aelin sighs loudly. “And?”

“And I may have told the Cortlands that you would welcome him into your group of friends. And that you would take him to the park tomorrow.” Aelin looks like she’s going to protest, but Rhoe barrels on. “The young man just lost his father, and you _will_ be nice to him.”

“Fine.” Aelin grumbles as she refills her wine glass. “Is that all?

Evalin rolls her eyes. “Yes. We’re turning in. Don’t stay up too late.”

As the Ashryvers disappear upstairs, Aelin practically drags Rowan down to the lower level of the house and into the home theater. He stumbles down the stairs after her and exhales in awe upon seeing the theater. It’s filled with reclining couches and blankets and a small bar is filled with movie candy. The ceiling is dotted with tiny lights, making it look like a starry night sky.

“Dorian, close your eyes,” Rowan hears Aelin say, and he’s taken by surprise when she pulls Rowan in for a kiss with all her strength. It’s not gentle. Refusing to separate from him, Aelin tugs him down onto the recliner with her, and he lands on top of her, laughing.

“How are you so strong?” he asks, getting situated upright on the couch. Aelin leans into his side and rests her head on his shoulder.

As Dorian picks the movie, Rowan wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, playing with the ends of her hair and running small circles down her arm. She leans further into his side, relaxing sleepily against him. He kisses the top of her head, and she smiles up at him.

“That wasn’t horrible, right?” she asks, eyes wide, and Rowan shakes his head.

“No, it wasn’t.”

Dorian hands out candy and drinks to them as the movie comes on – Twizzlers for Dorian, Milk Duds for Aelin and Sour Patch Kids for Rowan. They watch the crappy action movie, and Rowan has to hide his smile in Aelin’s hair several times as she and Dorian make their boisterous, drunken commentary. But despite how perfectly the night has been going, something in Rowan feels unsettled. He wonders if it’s because Aelin introduced him to her parents as her friend. He wonders how they would feel if they knew what he and their daughter were really up to.

By the time it’s time for bed, Rowan’s thoughts are tangled into a complicated, insecure knot. Aelin whispers that she’ll be right back after wishing him goodnight far too loudly. And Rowan strips down to his boxers and climbs into the soft bed.

He closes his eyes and tries to relax, but his mind won’t stop racing. He feels so far out of his league when it comes to these people with their fancy beers and mile long driveways and home theaters and personal chefs. It’s no wonder Aelin only thinks of him as a convenient, warm body.

“I really like him, Ace.” Rowan hears Dorian’s smooth tenor through the crack in the door. Rowan knows he shouldn’t be listening to their private conversation, but they’re standing right outside his room, and he can’t help but strain his ears to hear the reply, wondering what Aelin has to say about that.

“We’re not turning this into a threeway thing. Get your own fuck buddy,” Aelin replies with a laugh. Rowan’s stomach twists with an uncomfortable pang, feeling every one of his insecurities confirmed with her swift reply.

A heavy pause before Dorian begins again. “I just… I thought tonight was going to be weird,” he admits. “I didn’t know what the dynamic would be, you know? Anyway.” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable from talking about his feelings, and Rowan feels slightly guilty for listening. “Feel free to hang out with both of us whenever. It was fun.”

“I appreciate your best friend approval, but like I told you. This isn’t serious. We’re just… hanging out.”

Rowan frowns, bothered by her answer. But unable to articulate why. 

“Well, if you could _hang out_ quietly, that room shares a wall with mine and I’d like not to be completely scarred by morning,” Dorian mumbles, and Rowan closes his eyes as he hears the bedroom door open and Aelin slip into the guest room, joining him under the covers.

Aelin runs her hand up his side and kisses his shoulder. Then his chest. And as they go to land on his lips, Rowan stops her.

“Aelin? Do you mind if we…don’t?”

“Oh,” she whispers, surprised.

“I’m just a little more tired than I thought I was,” he says. “Too much beer, I think.”

Aelin rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling, and the abrupt space between them feels like a giant chasm, and he longs to pull her back into him. She props herself up, staring down at him, and he’s grateful for the dark, because he’s not sure what his face looks like.

Aelin tucks her hair behind her ear. “Should I go back to my room?” she asks softly. 

“Only if you want to,” he replies, and he’s relieved when she scooches back down onto the mattress and lays her head on the pillow next to him.

“I don’t want to.”

Aelin inches closer, and Rowan holds his breath as she snakes herself under his arm and rests her head on his chest. “Is this okay?” she whispers, and Rowan’s heart thunders in his chest. He nods as he runs his hand down her back, relishing in the silky feel of her nightgown. The nightgown has somehow ridden up, though, and as Rowan goes to pull it back down, he feels the bare skin of Aelin’s behind under his fingers. He can’t control his hands as they slowly trace over her smooth thighs and run between her legs.

Aelin lifts her head and angles her hips up to give Rowan more room to let his fingers roam.

“I thought you were too tired,” she says, and he can hear the smirk in her gravelly tone.

“That was before I discovered you were in my bed with no panties,” Rowan admits as he rubs his fingers over the apex of her thighs, their physical connection undeniably present.

Aelin breathes heavily, but her hips still as she places a hand against Rowan’s chest. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she says seriously. 

Rowan’s breath stutters as he leans up and captures Aelin’s lips. “I appreciate that, but right now, I need to be inside you.”

He lifts Aelin up, and she sinks down onto him slowly. As she rocks on top of him, her head thrown back in pleasure and the headboard thumping softly against the wall, Rowan thinks what he wants with Aelin is anything but casual. He’s going to break his own heart. He just knows it.


	11. Chapter 11

Sunlight streams through the slotted blinds into the guest room, waking Rowan slowly. He’s warm and content, tangled up in Aelin. His arm is draped over her stomach, and his face is pressed into the mess of blonde waves that spill over her shoulder. Rowan breathes slowly, unwilling to let this moment end yet. He knows as soon as Aelin wakes, he’ll have to put back on his mask of indifference, and he’s not quite ready to do that.

For a prolonged second, he lets himself _feel._ Feel how perfect it could be. He tries to imagine Aelin waking in his bed every day in an apartment, just the two of them – no roommates, no parents, no chaperones, no secrets. But the picture is too blurry, too far out of reach. Rowan grasps for it, but it quickly evaporates into smoke as he feels Aelin start to wake.

He closes his eyes, feigning sleep, as she turns to face him. He feels her trace her finger over his parted lips, and he can’t help but let them curl into a smile as she presses her mouth against his softly.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, cracking his eyes open. He tries not to gasp at how the gold around Aelin’s pupil flares and melts into turquoise in the early morning sun. She’s stunning.

“Early,” she croaks, her unused voice thick with sleep.

“Early enough to shower?” Rowan asks.

“Together?” Aelin asks, running her hands across his shoulders, and Rowan nods sleepily. “In my house, with my sleeping parents? In broad daylight?” she sasses, her attitude coming in full force, despite not being fully awake yet. “Risky, Mr. Whitethorn...”

Rowan is about to say never mind when Aelin rolls out of bed and pulls her nightgown over her head. She looks over her shoulder and tosses the silky fabric at Rowan, who watches her naked backside sway from side to side as she makes her way into the en suite bathroom.

Aelin is already in the shower by the time Rowan’s body catches up with his lust-addled brain. The water sluices down her tanned skin, dripping over her soft curves, and Rowan wants to touch her everywhere. He puts soap in his hands and rubs them together, lathering them up before running them down the smooth expanse of Aelin’s skin. It’s a weak excuse to touch her, but he doesn’t particularly care. She lets him soap her up thoroughly, letting his hands spend extra time on her breasts and between her legs.

“Please tell me you can be very quiet,” Aelin challenges him, holding up a condom he hadn’t even seen her grab. Rowan nods silently as Aelin rolls the condom onto him and turns around and bends over, hands pressed against the side of the wall. Rowan nearly passes out at the sight. He hasn’t had her like this before. From behind. And as he slides between her legs, he knows he won’t be able to do this often. She’s so tight and wet and warm. He swallows a moan as he bends over her, reaching for her chest and resting his head on his shoulder to hear her shallow pants. He holds her against him as tight as possible as their hips slap together, barely covered by the sound of water hitting the shower floor. He runs his hands between their legs where they’re joined, and Aelin’s knees suddenly buckle as she squeezes around him. It’s all too much and too fast, and Rowan follows behind her quickly. Aelin’s body sags, and Rowan has to work quickly to hold her up, lest they collapse.

He kisses his way down her back, keeping her upright in his sturdy grasp, both of them breathing hard. Not a word is exchanged as the pair finish their shower. But Aelin squirts some shampoo into her hand and motions for Rowan to lean down. He does so willingly and nearly purrs at the feeling of her hands in his hair. Once they’re cleaned, Aelin tosses the dirty condom down the toilet and grins widely.

“Good morning,” she says, pressing her lips against Rowan’s.

With one last kiss, Aelin disappears across the hall, completely undetected. Rowan lays back down in bed. It’s still so early. Before he knows it, he’s asleep again.

Rowan wakes to the sound of loud, chattering voices downstairs. He’s slightly disoriented before he realizes where he is and what room he’s in. He quickly gets dressed and makes his way down the stairs to join the rest of the family, but he’s surprised to see an unfamiliar face at the breakfast table, sitting next to Aelin.

His dark hair is parted to the side, and his brown eyes light up at something Aelin’s said. He’s wearing a short-sleeved button down with some sort of whale pattern on it and expensive looking sunglasses hang at the collar.

“Rowan!” Evalin greets him with a chipper smile. “Come meet our neightbor, Sam Cortland.”

Sam stands, revealing his salmon-colored shorts, and stretches out his hand for Rowan. He’s everything Rowan is not. Prep school born and bred, wealthy, sophisticated. He looks like he belongs in the Ashryver’s Italian marbled kitchen. Unlike Rowan, in his park uniform polo and khakis. He can’t help but notice that Aelin matches him, in a pink and green flowered dress. They look like a match made in prepster heaven. Rowan’s stomach sinks, but he offers his hand back with a forced smile and introduces himself in turn.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Evalin asks, and Rowan declines, saying he’s not a breakfast person.

Dorian shovels eggs into his mouth. “Come sit anyway. We’re going to walk over to the park in a few.”

Rowan sits. He tries to relax and participate in conversation, but it’s hard when his body tenses each time Sam leans over to tell something to Aelin; each time Aelin laughs or smiles in response it’s even worse. He knows he’s driving himself crazy over nothing – that he was the one inside Aelin this morning, and last night, for that matter. But there’s something in Sam’s disarming tone and lackadaisical smile that unsettles him.

Rowan’s more than relieved when it’s time to head to work. The four of them walk down the beach together. Rowan manages to take his spot walking next to Aelin, letting his fingers brush against hers occasionally “by accident.” Aelin smiles each time, and so he doesn’t stop.

“So, what’s the best ride at this place?” Sam asks, looking directly at Aelin and no one else. “I think the last time I was here I was about ten, so…”

“The Firecoaster is my favorite,” Aelin answers immediately. “But Dorian likes the log flume.” Aelin pauses. “What’s your favorite ride, Rowan?”

“Uh, I haven’t actually been on any of the rides,” Rowan admits, and Aelin stops walking, her eyes widening in shock.

“What do you mean you haven’t been on any of the rides? You’ve worked at the park for a month!”

Rowan frowns. “Yeah, working.” He pauses, thinking. “My least favorite ride to work is the ferris wheel.”

Aelin looks as if her mind is being blown at Rowan’s answers, though he can’t quite comprehend why. “That’s it,” she says resolutely. “Next day off I’m taking you to the park.”

Dorian laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what Rowan wants to do on his day off, Ace. Go to his place of work.”

“It’s the best place in the world!” Aelin replies. “He should be so lucky to have me show him around.”

Sam interjects. “I know I, for one, feel incredibly lucky to have you take me today.”

It takes everything in Rowan’s willpower not to roll his eyes.

“Sure,” Rowan answers, and Aelin smiles.

“Yeah?”

Rowan nods, and Aelin’s smile widens. He would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

They arrive at the park all too soon, and Rowan is reluctant to let Aelin out of his sight, but he knows he needs to check what shift he has first. He brushes by her and squeezes her hand softly, and he smiles when she squeezes back, acknowledging their small secret moment, before she takes off with Dorian and Sam.

It turns out he’s stationed at the log flume first, so he’s not surprised when he runs into Dorian nearly immediately.

“Where’s Aelin?” Rowan inquires, looking around for her familiar golden ponytali.

Dorian rolls his eyes. “The princess apparently didn’t wear the right outfit to get wet in, so they’re going to play games until I’m finished.”

Rowan pauses. “Sam didn’t want to come with you on the ride?”

Dorian scoffs. “I don’t think Sam is particularly interested in hanging out with me.” Rowan’s brow furrows, and he swallows, his mouth suddenly extremely dry. “Aelin’s a big girl,” Dorian clarifies, upon seeing Rowan’s face. He pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry. She can handle herself.”

“I’m not worried,” Rowan says too quickly, and Dorian throws him a knowing smirk as he hops onto the ride. Rowan reminds himself to work harder on his poker face.

The sun beats down on Rowan’s shoulders, and by mid-afternoon he can feel a burn starting to heat the back of his neck. Rowan’s mood has progressively gotten worse. He’s spotted Sam and Aelin and Dorian a few times in the park, but Aelin hasn’t stopped by to say hi to him once. He knows it’s because she’s entertaining Sam at the behest of her parents, but it still hurts a bit.

Which is why at the end of the day, when he sees a text waiting from her, Rowan is relieved and thrilled.

**We’re getting dinner at Town Dock Tavern. Come join when you get off?**

Rowan heads to the restaurant without even changing. It’s off the beaten path a little – overlooking the water with a perfect view of the sunset. It’s more intimate than he expected, the small tables it only by candles on the inside with a large wraparound window to get the best glimpse of the waterfront view.

Rowan takes a look at the menu in the window and notices the prices. $18 for a bowl of chowder? $30 for fish tacos? Rowan wonders if they’re putting gold into the food. Even though it’s a bit – okay, _way_ – out of his price range, he’s still anxious to see Aelin. Maybe he can just sit with them and pick up something cheaper on the way home.

He enters the restaurant and spots her immediately. She and Sam are at a small table, just the two of them, heads huddled together and laughing over something. Sam reaches over the table and grasps Aelin’s hand, and she doesn’t pull away. In fact, she tilts her face down, tucking her chin into her chest, the way she does when she’s flustered and blushing. Rowan looks around, wondering where Dorian is, but he’s nowhere to be found. There’s not a third seat. Not a third plate. No, it’s just the pair of them. Looking very much like they are on a date.

Rowan’s stomach twists when he realizes that Sam has taken Aelin out before he has, despite them sharing beds for the last week. No, that’s not quite it, he reminds himself. Apparently, Sam is allowed to take Aelin out, but he’s not. Rowan exits the restaurant without alerting them of his presence.

Once he’s safely back in his truck, he texts Aelin back, working hard to keep his tone light and unaffected.

**I think I’m going to head home. Someone kept me up late last night and woke me up early this morning…**

He’s surprised when his phone vibrates a minute later with a reply.

**Who would be so inconsiderate?!**

It vibrates again.

**Get some sleep. See you tomorrow?**

By the time Rowan arrives back at this apartment, he’s a mess of feelings. It’s not that Aelin doesn’t like him – he knows she does. But they haven’t established any rules or regulations to this thing they’re doing. What does casual even mean? Does it mean she can hook up with other people? Date them? Is it too late to clarify? He hates this.

Manon can sense his bad mood immediately and sighs loudly as she follows him into the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of whiskey.

“Want to bake?” she asks, and Rowan turns in surprise at his roommate.

“You’d bake with me?” he asks tentatively.

Manon shrugs. “I had a crap day, too.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asks as he pulls out the flour, sugar, butter, eggs and some mixing bowls.

Manon raises a carefully groomed eyebrow. “Do _you_ want to talk about it?”

“No,” Rowan chuckles.

“Yeah, me neither,” Manon agrees. She looks at the ingredients and then back at Rowan. “Okay, what are we making?”

Rowan explains the recipe he’s been wanting to try out – a sweet tea bundt cake with a pecan glaze. Manon is actually an excellent sous chef, helping him measure out everything, and the pair work in efficient silence, creating the sugary treat.

“You need to take a day off from her,” Manon finally says, her voice cutting into the silent room.

Rowan sets the timer as he closes the oven and sighs loudly. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.”

Manon shrugs. “Yeah, I can’t help myself.” She pauses and tugs at her platinum hair, clearly uncomfortable, before barreling forward. “Listen. I’m all for casual whatevering. That’s my life’s blood. But, what you’ve been doing isn’t actually casual. You’ve seen her literally every day for nearly a month. And the past two weeks have been all day, every day nonstop.”

Rowan wants to protest, but Manon isn’t wrong.

“I’m not saying ghost her for days. Don’t be a fucking ass,” she explains. “I’m saying, maybe just take _one_ day off.”

“That’s not horrible advice,” Rowan admits.

Manon smirks. “Yeah, I know. If you’d ever fucking listen to me, you’d know I’m a genius.”

Rowan refills his whiskey and offers a glass to Manon, who gladly accepts it. They make their way to the couch and both plop down.

“Your turn?” Rowan asks, prodding Manon with his toe. She kicks him away and takes a large sip of her whiskey.

“Remember the date I went on the other night?” Rowan nods. “Well, turns out I thought it was a date, but she didn’t.”

Rowan rubs at his stubble. “Sorry, Man. That’s…shit.”

Manon shrugs, playing it cool, but even Rowan can see the hurt behind her golden eyes. “The trials and tribulations of being a gay girl. Whatever. We’re friends. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

Rowan laughs, softly at first. But once it takes off, he can’t stop. The laughter becomes raucous, releasing the tension he’s held in all day. “Oh, Man. We’re a mess.”

Manon looks at him seriously. “Take a day off. A full twenty-four hours.” Rowan looks at the phone in his hand with uncertainty. “You can do it,” Manon insists.

Rowan opens his phone and texts back.

**I’m actually busy tomorrow. But let’s meet up later this week?**

Rowan shows the text to Manon. She nods in approval, and he hits send. Rowan immediately turns his phone off, not wanting to see if Aelin replies or not. He hopes he has the strength to make it through one single day without her.


	12. Chapter 12

Aelin wakes up cold and alone in her bed, and it’s a bizarre feeling. It feels like forever since she hasn’t greeted the day without Rowan beside her. It seems in his sleep, he can’t stay away from her, and each morning she’s woken with his arm draped over her chest and his nose tucked into her shoulder. She frowns, looking at the empty spot next to her and picks up her phone to see if he's texted. He hasn’t.

She does have about a dozen texts from Dorian apologizing for bailing on her last night. He reminds her that he wants to get laid this summer, too, and lets her know it was all worth it because he went home with some hot EMT named Sorcha. Aelin texts him a thumbs up and then switches back to Rowan’s message thread.

She rereads his last text and can’t help but wonder what his plans are tonight. She contemplates asking him, but ultimately concludes that it’s none of her business. He’d tell her if he wanted to. Instead, she texts him, asking when his next day off is so they can plan going to the park, which she thinks is innocent enough.

He doesn’t reply, but that’s not unusual for the hour. If there’s one thing Aelin has learned from sleeping over at Rowan’s it’s that he is _not_ a morning person. In fact, he has a horrible habit of snoozing his alarm until the very last possible minute, when he knows he’ll arrive at the park exactly when it opens, instead of the ten minutes early he’s supposed to get there.

Aelin gets ready and lounges around her room until she hears the doorbell ring. She bounds down the stairs with a loud, “I’ve got it!” before swinging the door open. Elide smiles widely on the other side and throws herself at Aelin with a tight hug.

“Ugh, I missed you,” Elide says, pushing her giant sunglasses onto her head as she steps into the house.

“You two are adorable,” Evalin chuckles, giving Elide a hug of her own. “Missing each other, even though Aelin’s been spending nearly every night at your house this week.”

Elide raises an eyebrow and flashes her dark eyes at Aelin, who cuts her off with a blinding smile at her parents.

“You know us,” Aelin says, grabbing Elide’s hand in hers and pulling her towards the kitchen. “Adorable.” Aelin glances at Elide, silencing her swirling questions with a pleading glance. “Now come on, let’s go make margaritas.”

“Keep an ear out for the doorbell, please,” Rhoe calls out to his daughter. “I’m expecting an important package from the city, and you’ll have to sign for it.”

Aelin pauses. “Where are you two going?”

“Into town for errands, then a board meeting,” Evalin explains.

“Then to Aedion and Lysandra’s for dinner,” Rhoe continues. “You’re welcome to join, but we assumed you two would have plans tonight.”

“Right. We do.” Aelin sends her parents off with a happy smile and best wishes for her niece and nephew, and with that they’re gone.

Aelin walks into the kitchen, Elide trailing silently beside her. Aelin grabs the tequila and margarita mix and pours it into the blender with some ice cubes. The blender fills the silent room with its loud whir for a few moments, and then Aelin pours them two very large glasses. When she looks up, Elide’s head is in her hand as she leans over the counter with a wicked grin plastered across her face, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You really think you’re going to get away without telling me who the guy is?” Elide cackles.

Aelin groans. “After my first marg. Please?”

“Nuh uh,” Elide says through her first sip. “You’ve been using me as an alibi! I think I deserve to know.”

Aelin begs her friend silently with imploring eyes, and Elide scoffs and takes another sip. “Fine,” she concedes. “Tell me later. I won’t forget.”

“I have no doubt.” Aelin salutes her tiny friend and grabs some tortilla chips and Emrys’s fresh guacamole from the fridge. At the sound of food, Fleetfoot wakes from her slumber and bounds out of her bed to circle Aelin’s heels. Aelin grabs her bed and takes it with them outside. Fleetfoot plops down and promptly falls asleep again.

The pair grab two lounge chairs and strip down to their bathing suits. Aelin’s wearing her skimpiest string bikini in an attempt to prevent crazy tan lines, but as she goes to tighten the strings on her bikini bottoms, she sees the bruises the same time Elide does.

Four fingertip-shaped blue-grey dots scatter across Aelin’s hip, with a larger one in the back. Aelin tries not to stay composed, but she can’t help but blush when she remembers the feel of Rowan gripping her hips from behind, his hands tightening around her with every pronounced thrust.

“So, you’re seeing someone… _strong_ ,” Elide chokes out through her poorly stifled laughter. “Oh come on, Ae, just tell me.”

Aelin stretches out on the lounge and takes a large sip of her margarita. “It’s Rowan,” she finally says.

Elide’s eyes look like they’re about to bug out of her head at her confession. “Rowan, Rowan? Like, my coworker Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn? That Rowan?”

Aelin’s brow furrows. “Why are you saying it like that?”

Elide shrugs. “I don’t know… he’s just… not your usual type? He’s so blonde! And shy.”

“He’s so hot is what he is,” Aelin says, wiggling her eyebrows, and Elide laughs outright. “And he is anything but shy in bed.”

Elide snorts. “I can see that.” She takes a long sip of her margarita, her eyes flicking down to Aelin’s bruised hip before staring back at her friend. “So come on, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to beg for details?”

Aelin can’t help but gush. She’s been holding in all these details, because she knows she can’t tell them to Dorian. And now that Elide knows, the dam is ready to burst. Which is good, because Elide wants absolutely no detail spared. So, Aelin starts at the beginning.

She gives Elide a thorough description of their time together – the kissing booth, the kiss under the docks, how he gave her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life by going down on her, how he makes sure she comes first (every. single. time!), how when Elide ran into them they were definitely buying condoms (which Elide can’t help but crack up at), how Aelin always thought she liked being on top best because she could control things, but there’s this thing when’s on top of her and hitches her leg over his, that he can reach a spot she didn’t even think truly existed.

“I swear, I think I blacked out the first time,” Aelin says, refilling their margarita glasses. “Or saw God.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Elide cackles.

“Is he quiet?” Aelin asks, and Elide nods emphatically.

“Oh my god, yes. He didn’t even make eye contact with me the first week,” Elide says. “Lorcan got some perverse pleasure out of forcing him into conversations. He was so petrified of him.”

Aelin smirks. “Lorcan, huh?” Elide takes a large sip of her drink, but her eyes glaze over with wistfulness. “How’s that going? And don’t deny it. You’ve both been pining for each other for _years._ ”

“We have not!” Elide insists. “Lorcan doesn’t _pine_. He broods.” Elide giggles. “I might be having too much fun torturing him this summer.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

“It was all actually Manon’s idea,” Elide confesses. “To make him so jealous that he’d break down and ask me out.”

“Manon, as in, Rowan’s Manon?” At the mention of him, Aelin can’t help but check her phone. Still no reply from Rowan. Aelin’s lips tug downward, but she forces them into an eager grin as Elide explains how she’s made Lorcan’s summer a living hell.

“So how did this all start?” Aelin asks.

“Well, I told Manon that I liked someone, had for years, and I thought they liked me, but they’d never asked me out, so I didn’t know for sure,” Elide explains. Aelin nods, listening to her friend babble about how Manon offered herself up as a constant companion – hanging out and enjoying themselves in all the places Lorcan usually frequents, the shitty dive bar he loves so much, the steakhouse on Main Street, etc. etc. Completely ignoring Lorcan’s presence and just having the best time the two of them.

“And how does Manon feel about Lorcan?” Aelin asks. She can’t imagine the two of them getting along, for some reason.

“Oh, they’ve never interacted,” Elide confesses. “In fact, I didn’t even tell her it was Lorcan I was interested in until this week. But we’re supposed to go to his bowling league tonight. You should come if you and Rowan don’t already have plans?”

Aelin _loves_ bowling. For some reason, her hand/eye coordination only applies to bowling and mini golf, and she hasn’t been in forever. She’s thrilled to tell Elide she’s free tonight.

“We should take a picture,” Elide suggests, apropos of nothing. “We look fucking hot, and the internet deserves to know.”

“I didn’t know Lorcan’s nickname was the internet,” Aelin giggles, and Elide rolls her eyes and takes out her phone to snap some pictures.

Aelin and Elide spend the next hour finishing their pitcher of margaritas and taking selfies, trying to get the best angles of their cleavage and the rest of their scantily clad bodies for Instagram. Aelin finally decides to post one of Elide sharing her lounge with her, squished together, and Elide’s lips pressed against her cheek in a firm kiss while Aelin scrunches her nose and grins. She captions it, _**Wish you were here**_ and then at the last second adds a question mark before posting it. The comments start coming in – each one a resounding YES. But, one name is notably absent from them.

Elide posts one of them cheersing their drinks with the caption: _**FRI-YAY.**_ Aelin likes it immediately, and smiles when she sees that Lorcan likes it at the same time. She can’t help the small pang of jealousy that stirs within her. But she pushes it down and suggests they get into the pool. They’ve been sitting in the sun for long enough.

Aelin jumps in like a pencil, her body slicing through the cool water. Her feet reach the bottom quickly, and she pushes up and breaks through the surface. She sees Fleetfoot, at the side of the pool, barking her little head off. Aelin swims to the side and comforts the puppy.

“I’m okay!” Aelin smiles at the golden ball of fur. “Look, I’m fine!”

Without hesitation, Fleetfoot flings herself off the ledge and into the pool and swims directly to Aelin. It’s pretty much the cutest thing she’s ever seen. She and Elide take turns making Fleetfoot swim to them until the small dog tires, and Aelin lifts her out of the pool. She jumps right back in.

“You’re going to drown!” Aelin scolds, pulling her out again. The dog cries, and Aelin throws a sympathetic look to Elide. “I think I need to get out.”

Elide laughs and holds up her hands. “I’m turning into a prune anyway.”

As they get out, Aelin finally hears the doorbell ring. She remembers her dad’s package and wraps her towel around her waist before heading to the foyer to sign. But it’s not a delivery on the other side of the door, but the low-key brunette she spent yesterday with.

“Sam!” she exclaims, her arms crossing over her bikini-clad chest. “What are you doing here?”

Sam’s eyes stare into hers hard, and she can tell that he’s trying extremely hard not to look down at her chest, which she appreciates. She feels way too exposed in front of this practical stranger.

“I texted you earlier,” he begins. “But I didn’t hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in the pool…” Aelin explains, though the explanation is clearly unnecessary. She’s dripping wet and wearing a bathing suit. The situation seems pretty clear.

“I can see that,” he says, and his eyes finally flit down her body and immediately force themselves back to her face. She watches as his cheeks darken with a deep red blush, his freckles blurring into the flushed color. Flustered, he shakes his head. “You were just so nice to me yesterday, and I’ve been sitting in that empty house all day while my Aunt and Uncle are out, and I figured I could see what you were up to. But I’m sorry, you’re clearly busy. I shouldn’t have come over.”

“Sam,” Aelin chuckles lightly. “It’s fine. I had fun yesterday, too. Come on in.”

He pauses, unsure if her offer is genuine, but Aelin waves him in and leads him out to the pool where Elide is back in her lounger, with Fleetfoot splayed out beside her, drying in the late afternoon sun. Aelin drags up another chair for Sam, who leans forward to introduce himself to Elide. He then sits on the lounger and crosses his legs – one plaid pant leg over the other.

As Elide peppers Sam with questions about where he’s from and what he’s doing here for the summer, Aelin takes a moment to make another pitcher of margaritas and bring a glass back for Sam, who accepts it with a grateful smile.

“So, I hear you two are going bowling tonight,” Sam says, and Aelin nods.

Elide looks to Aelin probingly, and Aelin realizes Sam has probably just told Elide about the passing of his father, and how he’s expected to take over his family business come August. That’s what he spent the majority of dinner talking about last night, and it’s clear it’s weighing on him immensely. She can’t imagine having to take over a giant company at his age while also mourning the death of a parent. She internally sighs, knowing what she has to do.

Aelin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You should come, Sam.”

“Really?” he asks, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah!” Elide says, excited. “There’s a whole league thing tonight, so I’m sure you’ll meet a ton of people.”

Sam smiles warmly. “Why would I want to meet more people, when I’m with the two prettiest girls in town?”

Aelin rolls her eyes, but Elide laughs. “Just wait until you see Manon!”

As Elide and Sam chat back and forth, Aelin picks up her phone again. Still no reply from Rowan. She frowns. He’s gone on his lunch break already and has certainly looked at his phone.

“Expecting to hear from someone?” Elide asks, her eyes wide with innocence.

“No,” Aelin replies too quickly. “Just seeing what Dorian’s up to tonight.” She pauses. “He’s busy.” Aelin is grateful when Elide doesn’t call her blatant lie out.

Instead, the three of them sit in the sun for another hour, chatting about their favorite summer activities, until Aelin declares she should shower and get ready. Sam agrees to do the same and meet them back at Aelin’s at 8pm.

Aelin’s shower is a far cry from the last shower she had. She presses her fingers in the bruised spots at her hips and imagines they’re Rowan’s strong hands instead of her dainty ones. Her fingers slip over her wet thighs and between her legs, and she brings herself to pleasure quickly. It’s not nearly as fulfilling as when Rowan does it, she can’t help but notice. But, she also hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him all day, and she knew she couldn’t leave the house all worked up.

By the time Aelin is ready to go, Rowan still hasn’t texted her back. She’s not ashamed to admit it’s driving her a little bit insane. What has been keeping him so busy that he can’t even text her back? She decides that it’s been long enough that she can text him again. She takes a quick selfie, showing off her subtle cleavage and sends it off with a text asking how she looks.

As she and Elide wait in the foyer for Sam, Aelin stops pretending she’s not waiting for a text reply and keeps her phone out in her hand. Elide can’t help but comment. “You like him.”

“Who?” Aelin asks, distracted.

“The Chaol 2.0 lookalike who was here all afternoon,” Elide jokes. “No, dummy. Rowan.

“Of course I like him.”

“No, but I mean you _really_ like him.”

Aelin shrugs. She does like Rowan, and she definitely missed him today.

“He’s nice,” Aelin says carefully. “We’re friends.”

“Who fuck,” Elide adds. “Usually when I’m friends with the person I’m sleeping with, it’s called a relationship.”

“Or, friends with benefits.”

Elide raises an eyebrow at her friend. “So, what, it’s just some dirty secret affair?”

Aelin frowns. “Affair sounds so tawdry.”

Their banter is interrupted by Sam’s arrival. He looks preppy as ever, and Aelin finally understands Elide’s Chaol 2.0 comment. Their coloring is fairly similar, and all dressed up for a night out, they both have a similar air about them. This is exactly who Aelin’s parents would want her to date. But oddly enough, he does absolutely nothing for Aelin.

Rowan finally texts her back while they’re en route to the bowling alley.

**You know you’re stunning.** His text makes her grin wildly.

The drive to the bowling alley is short, and soon they’re all piling out of their Uber and into the small dingy alley, which has never been updated. Elide spots Manon right away, and leads them over to her lane, where a bunch of people are huddled at a table with beers and pizza.

Manon hugs Elide, but her eyes narrow when she sees Aelin.

“I brought friends,” Elide says, “I hope that’s okay.”

“I did, too,” Manon says with a frown, and Aelin’s heart soars when she follows Manon’s gaze and it lands on a head of silvery hair making its way toward their table. It’s a perfect coincidence that she accidentally ended up crashing Rowan’s plans. Fate.

She smiles, making eye contact with him. His pine green eyes light up with desire upon seeing her, but he looks away quickly, tension filling his posture as he gets closer.

He drops two beers onto the table in front of them, and Aelin quirks her head in confusion as a pretty blonde brushes against his hand to take it. The blonde smiles at him and bats her eyelashes, thanking him sweetly for the beer. Aelin’s stomach turns.

“This is my cousin, Asterin.” Manon introduces the girl to everyone. Aelin has the urge to throw her arms around Rowan and kiss him, but she can’t with everyone around. Instead, she takes a seat at the table next to him, and tries to greet him.

But Rowan isn’t paying attention to her. His scowling face looks over her shoulder at Sam, who’s taken the seat on the other side of her.

“Sam,” he says with a small nod of his head.

Unfazed, Sam greets everyone at the table with gusto, introducing himself as the new guy, completely unaware to the extreme tension simmering beneath the surface.

“So, are we going to bowl or what?” Elide asks. Rowan stands up from the table quickly and grabs a ball, not looking back at Aelin. Asterin cheers wildly for him from the table, her gold eyes glowing at the handsome man getting ready to play.

There’s only one thing Aelin can conclude. She’s inadvertently crashed Rowan’s date.


	13. Chapter 13

Rowan doesn’t know what God he pissed off, but he feels like he’s being actively punished. All he attempted was one single day without Aelin, and instead, he ends up in a group hang with Aelin and the new guy she’s hanging out with, apparently?

His teeth grit as he thinks of Sam. Sam, who looked around the bowling alley and turned up his nose at the cheap beer and smelly shoes. Sam who wiped his chair down with a napkin before taking a seat. Rowan barely knows him, but he’s a hundred percent sure that he hates him.

At least he’s vaguely comforted by the fact that Manon is in an even worse position than him. Before bowling, she warned him of her entirely complicated situation involving Rowan’s two coworkers – he’s never seen Manon so vulnerable as when she explained that she thought Elide was into her. When she explained it, Rowan was inclined to see how she could misunderstand.

When Elide had confided in Manon that she’d had a crush on “someone” for years, and thought they liked her too, Manon assumed that “someone” was her. She knows firsthand how hard it can be to come out, and she thought Elide was just being delicate about it – saying without actually saying that she had a crush on Manon, asking her to make the first move. She didn’t realize “someone” is actually Lorcan, and now Manon’s trapped, helping Elide with the plan she thought was a ruse.

Rowan uses his frustration to propel the ball down the lane, knocking most of the pins down. He turns proudly and grins at the twin pairs of golden eyes that smile back at him. He can’t get over how much Manon’s cousin looks just like her, except he assumes with her natural hair color – a dark, dishwatery blonde, instead of Manon’s bleached platinum.

He’s only met her a few times before, but Asterin is fun. She’s the warm relaxed mirror to Manon’s shrewd ice queen. And he loves seeing how much she cares for Manon. As soon as Asterin heard about the Elide catastrophe confession dinner, she insisted on accompanying Manon and Elide on their next night out. And she’s been Manon’s hype person all night. 

He discards the ball and lets Manon step up to the plate. As she brushes by him she whispers, “Who’s the guy?” And Rowan shakes his head, shrugging her off. He doesn’t want to talk about it. At least not now. Not with Aelin in front of him. When all he wants to do is haul her into his lap and wrap his arms around her and let Sam know exactly what’s going on.

Rowan glances at Aelin, with her freshly dried waves cascading over her bare shoulders, which are exposed in her off the shoulder loose top that ends just above the waistline of her jeans, teasing him with a delicious strip of skin. Rowan frowns, wondering if the outfit is for Sam or for him.

Rowan takes his seat back at the table and tries to replace his emotionally turbulent insides with a mask of calm.

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he begins.

“Clearly,” Aelin mutters under her breath, but Rowan hears her perfectly. He knocks her foot with his under the table, but she retracts it, moving her feet away from him and under her chair. It stings. He watches as her eyes glance around the table, landing slowly on Asterin.

“Asterin, I love your jacket,” Aelin says with a too-sweet smile.

Asterin removes her fringed suede jacket, revealing a threadbare t-shirt underneath. “Thanks!” she replies enthusiastically. “I found it at a thrift store last week and am obsessed.” Aelin smiles, waiting for Asterin to say something else. Asterin finally replies with, “I love your earrings.”

Aelin twists her long hair over one of her shoulders to fiddle with the large hoop on her ear and thanks Asterin. Rowan’s eyes bounce between the two women on either side of him, not exactly sure what the hell is going on.

“I’m going to grab a beer,” Sam interjects. “Can I get you anything?”

Aelin nods, asking for a Stella, and the knot in Rowan’s chest unfurls slightly as Sam departs from the table. Aelin’s foot finally returns a small nudge to Rowan’s ankle as she says, “I missed you at dinner last night.”

Rowan’s chest burns as he remembers the way Sam held Aelin’s hand over the dinner table last night, but he grins, regardless. He doesn’t want her to know how badly he’s bleeding. He’ll cover up all his wounds with smiles.

“Sorry. I was so tired from work,” Rowan says. “Plus, I had a new recipe for a bundt cake I wanted to try out.”

Asterin leans forward and puts her hand on his arm. He turns to her, her gold flecked eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, that cake Manon shoved into my mouth earlier was baked by you?” Rowan nods, and Asterin smiles widely. “Wow. That was like, professional.” She turns to Aelin and Elide. “Did you guys know Rowan is the best baker?” Asterin says.

“Yep,” Aelin says sharply. “I’ve had it.”

Her comment is interrupted by Manon’s loud strike, all the pins toppling over in a raucous heap. Elide leaps up from the table and squeals.

“My turn!” Elide pouts and asks Manon for help teaching her how to throw the ball. Rowan watches Manon as she helps Elide position her body squarely to the pins. With her hands on Elide’s hips, he notices that a distracted Lorcan, two lanes down, only downs one pin, much to his teammates’ chagrin.

While he’s looking away, Aelin grabs Rowan’s beer and takes a small sip. Her eyes peer over the rim, piercing holes into his carefully erected armor. “Busy day at work?” she asks casually, but her gaze is anything but nonchalant.

“No more than usual,” Rowan replies, grabbing his beer back and taking another long sip of his beer, and Asterin’s eyes flick between the two of them, curious.

“So, Aelin,” Asterin interrupts, attempting to diffuse the thick layer of tension settling over the table. “How do you know Rowan?”

“We’re friends,” Aelin says coolly, and Rowan tries not to let the word affect him. They are friends. Kind of. Maybe. “He works at my family’s amusement park.”

“Your boyfriend’s cute,” Asterin says, and he tries not to flinch when Aelin glances over her shoulder to where Sam waits at the bar.

“Oh, Sam’s not my boyfriend,” Aelin says. “Just another _friend_.”

Rowan tries not to flinch at the implication of her words, but he finds it impossible. He will be devastated if Sam is the same kind of friend to Aelin that he is. She pats his shoulder as she stands from the table, and Rowan can feel himself tense under her touch. Her fingers linger ever so slightly as she makes her way to the lane, and he can’t help but watch as her hips sway.

Asterin’s smile is feral as she looks between him and Aelin. “That’s the girl you’re supposed to be staying away from tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Rowan grumbles, annoyed that he’s so incredibly transparent when he’s working so hard to hide his feelings.

“Need me to run interference?” she asks, and Rowan smiles at the kind offer but declines. He turns his attention back to Aelin, who grabs a hot pink ball. She rolls a perfect strike, barely even looking.

“I think Manon needs you more than I do,” he says, glancing at Manon’s arm wrapped around Elide’s shoulders, and the way Elide can’t stop glancing across the room at where Lorcan sits with his teammates.

“I can be both your cheerleaders tonight, babe,” she says with an overzealous wink. “If you need a helping hand, just let me know.”

Aelin freezes a foot away from the table and mouths, “Babe?” while quirking an eyebrow at him. He rolls his eyes and finishes the rest of his beer.

Just as Sam returns to the table, it’s his turn, and they watch him throw a truly horrific gutter ball. The whole table chuckles softly as Sam admits bowling is not his sport.

“What is your sport?” Elide asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder and glancing Lorcan’s way again. 

“Sailing,” he says. Rowan smothers a sardonic laugh. Of course Sam’s sport is sailing. A sport where the equipment costs more than his yearly salary. Four times his yearly salary, actually.

“That’s not a sport,” Manon interjects. “That’s a trust fund hobby.”

“Tell that to my wall of regatta trophies,” Sam boasts, and even Aelin can’t control rolling her eyes at that, Rowan notices with satisfaction.

“Which reminds me,” Sam begins. “My family is throwing a big Fourth of July party on our yacht next week. It’ll be docked. No sailing experience required. You should come,” he says to Aelin. Then turns to the rest of the table. “All of you.”

“A yacht party?” Aelin says, and Sam flashes her a self-assured grin as he nods. “Oh, Dorian will die. He’s always wanted to do that, but his dad would never let him bring anyone on their boat.”

“Sounds fun,” Rowan says, forcing a smile.

As Sam continues to talk about the preparations for what is sure to be an extremely swanky party, Rowan begins to feel warm and in need of fresh air. He wishes he were a smoker, so he’d have an excuse to step out. Every time Sam name drops or makes an allusion to how much money he has, Rowan feels himself grow smaller. A few more minutes of listening to Sam talk and he can’t stand it anymore. He stands from the table, suddenly.

“Where are you going?” Aelin asks.

“Just gonna get some air.”

He bolts out the door before anyone can ask him anything else. The front of the bowling alley is far too well-lit with bright fluorescent lights, so he slinks around to the side of the building where the parking lot is mostly empty and he can remain covered in dark inky shadows. He leans against the concrete of the building and tilts his head back, trying to alleviate the tension that feels like it’s strangling him. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly.

His heart is finally starting to slow its pounding when he hears her voice cut through the darkness. “Rowan?” Aelin whispers. He opens his eyes and turns his head toward the sound, and he hears her soft gasp and jump. “There you are,” she says, approaching him slowly. Tentatively. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” Rowan finally answers, his deep voice filled with gravel.

“Are you?” she asks, finally coming to stand in front of him. In the dark he can barely make out the shape of her face, but still somehow her eyes glow blue and gold, reflecting the moon lit sky above. “Your date was worried.”

“My date?” Rowan asks, perplexed.

Aelin laughs humorlessly and clasps her hands in front of her stomach. That small sliver of bare skin still distracting him. “Yes, your date. You know. Blonde, very pretty?”

Rowan chuckles. “Are you talking about yourself in the third person?”

Aelin shoves at his chest. “Are you being obtuse on purpose right now?”

“Aelin, I didn’t even know you were coming tonight,” he says. She tosses her hands up in frustration to gesticulate wildly as she talks.

“I’m talking about Asterin, you moron,” she snips at him, and his chest warms as he grabs her hands, which are flailing mid-air between them. “Give me my hands back,” she warns him, but Rowan just smiles.

“You’re jealous,” Rowan finally realizes, and Aelin scowls, trying to pull her hands free from Rowan’s grasp, but he refuses. Instead, he pulls them into his chest and flips them around, so Aelin is the one with her back to the building.

“Am not,” Aelin insists, and he finally releases her hands, only so he can finally touch the skin of her waist that’s been tempting him since she sent that picture of herself hours ago. She shivers as his thumbs rub against her soft skin.

“You are,” he says, leaning down to whisper against the shell of her ear. His lips brush against it, and she clutches onto his shirt, pulling him down toward her. “I didn’t know you could get jealous,” he says, letting his mouth land on the bare expanse of her shoulder. “It’s kind of adorable.” He snickers against her neck, and she tilts her head to the side to give him more room, and her hands wrap around his waist to pull him closer.

“Are you finished ignoring me?” she whispers, and Rowan pauses.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he replies, and he feels her fingers tense against his back and then loosen.

“Okay,” she says, resigned. His lips brush against her neck, then her chin, then her cheek.

He shifts back to look at her, her chest heaving with labored breaths, her body curled around his, wanton and beautiful. And he just has to ask. Has to know. Even if it kills him. He still needs to know.

“You called us both your friends,” he begins, and Aelin’s eyes search his, looking for some hidden meaning to his words. “Is Sam your friend like _I’m_ your friend?” he asks. Understanding flicks over her face as she shakes her head.

“No. Oh my god, no, Rowan.” Her voice is a thin whisper, but it’s firm. Resolute. “No one else is a friend like you. I promise, I would never.”

“Are you sure? Because… it’d be okay if… I mean, I’d understand if…” He tries to reply eloquently, but he can’t find the words. He has the worst habit of tripping up his sentences in front of her.

“Would it?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Because I don’t think I’d be as understanding.” She sighs. “I wanted to rip Asterin’s hand off you.”

Rowan smiles. “Yeah?”

“And like… maybe mount you in the middle of the room.”

“Mmm,” Rowan ponders. “That could be arranged.” He sighs, exhaling slowly as her arms wrap around his waist tighter. Rowan looks up into the night sky and then back down at her, trying to figure out what he wants to say. How he can say it without scaring her away. “I just didn’t know if being exclusive adhered to the rules of being casual.”

“Who says there have to be rules?” Aelin replies softly. “This is between us. We get to decide what that means. Fuck the rules. We make our own.”

Rowan wastes no time before crashing his lips to hers in a mess of lips and teeth and tongue. It feels like coming up for air again. The tension disappears from his shoulders as her fingers twine themselves in the back of his hair, which is almost long enough for her to pull. He feels like an addict, who’s getting his next fix. He breathes her in, letting her keep him as close to her as she wants. His hands go up her loose shirt, and he groans loudly when his hands come into contact with the underside of her breasts. She hasn’t been wearing a bra this whole time. He cups her as his thumbs run over her puckered skin, and she whimpers into his mouth as she grinds onto his thigh.

Rowan is about to slide his hands down the front of her jeans when a throat clears loudly in the distance. They both freeze, pausing and panting, waiting to hear who the voice belongs to.

“I’m not coming any closer because I enjoy my vision and don’t want to gouge my own eyeballs out,” Manon calls out to them. “But, there are three people at that table who realize you’ve both been gone for a suspiciously long amount of time, and I’m getting really tired of distracting Moneybags McGee. So come quickly.” Manon seems to realize her turn of phrase and groans at Rowan’s lewd snickering. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just… you know. Get back inside, please.”

“You could have come closer,” Rowan calls back. “We’re both fully clothed.”

“I couldn’t take that risk,” Manon says, and disappears back into the alley.

Aelin giggles into Rowan’s shoulder and leans her forehead against his chest. She kisses him through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and hugs him tighter. She looks up at him and tilts herself up onto her tip-toes and kisses him softly.

“I missed you today,” she says, and he hates how much his heart blooms with hope at her words.

“It was one day,” he replies, smoothing her hair and shirt, so she doesn’t look like she’s just been ravaged in some back alley – even though, technically, that’s exactly what happened.

“Ask me how many times I got off thinking about you in that one day,” she asks saucily, and Rowan nearly chokes at the image of her touching herself.

“How many?” he asks, and she smirks, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  
“Um, yes. I really would,” he laughs.

She saunters away, and he watches her ass move side to side in her tight jeans. He runs to catch up with her, but he keeps his distance as they enter.

Back at their table, Lorcan has joined, much to Rowan’s surprise and Manon’s clear displeasure.

Rowan sits beside her and pats her shoulder. She throws him an aggressive scowl, and he retracts his hand. “So, Asterin clearly failed at her job tonight,” Manon whispers, and Rowan shrugs. He looks at Aelin, who smiles at him, before resuming her conversation with Elide and Sam and now Lorcan.

“I think I’m a lost cause,” Rowan admits.

Manon sighs sadly. “Me too.”

“Maybe we’ll both get what we want,” Rowan says, as they both stare across the table at Aelin and Elide respectively. Elide’s smile is lit up at something Lorcan’s said, and Rowan watches how Sam’s eyes follow Aelin’s every little movement.

“Maybe,” Manon says, but he knows she doesn’t mean it. Despite that, Rowan holds onto the small kernel of hope for the rest of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

Rowan drives up the Ashryver’s driveway and takes a deep breath. It’s been three full days since Rowan dropped the “E” word on Aelin and three whole days since they’ve seen each other alone. He’s relieved he didn’t scare her off with his exclusivity question, but he’s on edge for their day together.

Today, Aelin is taking Rowan to Ashryver Playland as her guest. Just the two of them, and Rowan can’t help but feel nervous. They’ll be together. Out in public. Just the two of them. Like a real date. Neither of them have acknowledged that it’s a date, but… that’s what it is.

He grabs his baseball hat and covers his hair before walking up the front steps and ringing the doorbell. Rhoe answers the door with a friendly smile and welcomes him in.

As they cross the foyer and make their way into the kitchen, Rowan can’t help but hear Aedion’s low voice ask – “Sam, who’s Sam?”

Rowan’s heart picks up pace as Evalin gushes in response. “Oh, Aelin. Have you been seeing Sam? “He’s so perfect for you,” she continues. “I was hoping there might be a spark there.”

“No, um—” Aelin interjects, but her Evalin bowls her over, continuing her praise for the boy next door. Rowan’s stomach sinks.

“He’s just so responsible and well-spoken, and so good looking,” Evalin rambles. “And what a story for your children! That you used to know each other in your youth and then reconnected twenty years later? And I think he’s going to be such a good influence on you. With him heading his father’s company, you could take the time to really decide what you want to do with your future. If you want to get involved with philanthropy, or write, or be a stay at home mother, or—”

Rhoe coughs as he leads Rowan into the kitchen, interrupting his rambling wife. “Look who I found outside.”

“Rowan!” Evalin throws him a wide smile. “What a lovely surprise. Aelin, you didn’t tell us Rowan was coming to the park with us today.”

Rowan ducks his head and sticks his hands into his shorts pockets, feeling uncomfortable. He looks around the kitchen. It’s a full house today. Lysandra and Aedion sit at the kitchen table, finishing their breakfast while Gavin and Evie throw a toy back and forth for Fleetfoot.

Aelin finishes her last sip of coffee and stands from the table. She looks effortlessly beautiful, per usual, Rowan can’t help but notice. Her loose tank top and cut offs display her tanned skin prominently, and her golden hair is up in its signature high ponytail. 

“That’s because he’s not,” Aelin tells her mom. “I mean. We’re not coming with you. Rowan’s never been to the park as a patron before, and I wanted to give him a full Aelin-style day. Not going on all the kid rides. No offense.”

Aedion holds up his hands and nods. “No offense taken. Those rides are the worst.”

Rowan ducks his head bashfully, slightly horrified that Aelin is making him look bad in front of her family, who clearly already wants her together with Sam. “Aelin didn’t tell me you were going as a family. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your plans…”

Evalin looks like she’s going to insist they join them when Rhoe closes his paper and looks up at Rowan. “Nonsense. You two have fun.”

Evalin looks meaningfully at Aelin. “Is Sam going to be joining you, too, Fireheart?”

“Mom! No,” Aelin groans, frustrated. “Leave it alone.” She throws an apologetic glance at Rowan, but he ignores it. He should have known her mom would be Team Sam.

Aedion breaks the tension, asking his sister if they’ll see them back at the house for fireworks.

We’ll see you back here for fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” Rowan asks.

“Ashryver Playland celebrates the Fourth on July 2nd, for some reason,” Aelin explains.

“Permits,” her mother says.

“Anyway,” Aelin continues. “Today the park sets off the most amazing fireworks over the water, and we happen to have a perfect view from our back patio.”

“Have fun,” Rhoe calls out as Aelin leads Rowan out the back door and onto the beach.

“Sorry about that,” Aelin apologizes once they’re out of sight. Rowan shrugs her off, but he can’t stop hearing Evalin’s excitement at the idea that Aelin could be dating Sam. It’s the last thing his inferiority complex needs. But he’s determined to have a good time today, so he shakes off the negativity and focuses completely on the gorgeous girl beside him. He grins when she slips her hand into his as they walk side-by-side.

At the ticket booth, Elide welcomes the two of them with an over the top smile. “Well, well, well. Rowan, I didn’t expect to see you on your day off. How _ever_ did Aelin convince you of this?”

Rowan shrugs, not really sure what to say, but Aelin rolls her eyes. “Oh my gods, Elide, just tell him you know and be done with it.”

Rowan barks out a short laugh and can feel his cheeks heating as Elide gives him a wink. He thinks that’s a good sign? That Aelin has told another one of her friends, who isn’t Dorian. He hopes. Aelin smiles as she holds her wrist out for a wristband and motions for Rowan to do the same. “Have fun you two,” Elide calls after them as Aelin leads him into the park.

“What first?” Rowan asks, and Aelin drags him to the Firecoaster. Fenrys is taking tickets for the ride, and he grins when he sees Rowan and Aelin at the top of the line.

“Fen, can we sit in the front?” Aelin asks, bouncing on her toes. Fenrys nods and lets a group of people through, holding Aelin and Rowan back so they can be first onto the next car.

Rowan looks down at her and pauses. “Uhhh, we don’t have to do that.”

Aelin snorts. “Are you…scared?”

“I don’t love rollercoasters,” Rowan admits, and Fenrys laughs outright. “I’m too tall, and I feel like I’m going to topple out of the seat,” he says, rushed.

Aelin laughs and grabs his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“You better,” Rowan grumbles. “If I fall out, I’m taking you with me.”

Fenrys pouts. “You know, Aelin, I’m hurt. You’ve never taken _me_ to the park.” Aelin ruffles his hair and pats his cheek.

“Maybe next year, champ.” She laughs. “You’re still not old enough to ride all the rides,” she teases him.

Fenrys sticks out his tongue. “Don’t know why you hang out with this one,” Fenrys tells Rowan. “She’s cruel.”

The next car comes to a stop in front of them, and Fenrys lets them on. Aelin eagerly leads Rowan to the front and slips in. Rowan awkwardly gets in after her, forcing himself into the cramped seat, his knees squishing against the front. His shorts ride up uncomfortably, and he tries to adjust them quickly.

“How are you comfortable?” he asks, looking at Aelin, who is beaming with excitement. ”I have a perma-wedgie just from trying to sit.”

“It helps that I’m not wearing panties,” Aelin says coolly, and Rowan bumps his knee hard against the top of the car.

“What?!”

As Rowan hisses in pain, Aelin breaks out into laughter, her cheeks flushing. She leans over and grabs his arm. “I’m kidding, but oh my gods, your face.”

Her eyes darken as she looks at him, and desire pools in Rowan’s stomach. She forces herself to look away, which is good because Rowan was tempted to say fuck it all and kiss her in broad daylight. Instead, he rests his hand on her knee and leans toward her.

“Fenrys was right. Cruel,” he says, his eyes boring holes into the side of her head.

Rowan barely has time to see her smiling reaction as the ride takes off. His stomach flips as they hit their first dip. He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t love rollercoasters. Instead of panicking, he looks at Aelin, whose eyes are wide with glee as they round every turn and hit every dip. Her hair flies behind her, and her arms are up in the air. Rowan holds the bar in front of him tightly, and breathes deeply. When the ride finally stops, Aelin’s smile makes the ride worth it.

She grabs his hand and drags him to the next ride. He’d ride the rollercoaster a thousand times if it meant her hand in his in public again. They make a large circle, doing all of the “big” rides first – the log flume, the whip, the starship 2000. They pretend to race each other on the Derby Carousel, and it doesn’t take long for Rowan to see the appeal of coming to the park. Even his grouchy self has to admit the rides are fun. Though it’s mostly because he’s never seen Aelin this carefree or relaxed or unselfconscious. She’s casually touched him so many times he’s lost count, and each time he’s surprised.

“I’m starving,” Aelin says after they get off the Wyvern Flyers. “Lunch?”

Rowan’s stomach grumbles loudly, as if on cue. They head to the nearest snack bar and by chance end up behind Aedion and Lysandra. Rowan has barely met Aelin’s brother and sister-in-law, but they seem nice enough. He’d planned on buying Aelin lunch, but Aedion insists on buying whatever they want. Rowan tries to fight him on it, but Aedion is having none of it. The only payment he asks is for Aelin and Rowan to have lunch with them.

After they get their burgers and fries and sodas, the four of them make their way to the eating tent, out of the sun.

“So, what have you been up to this summer, Ae?” Aedion asks. “We’ve barely seen you.”

“Or should we ask _who_ you’ve been up to?” Lysandra asks, a wicked grin on her face. She glances at Rowan, and Rowan conveniently takes a large bite of his burger.

Aedion lights up. “Oh, yeah. Tell us about this Sam character that mom was going on about.”

Rowan focuses intently on chewing and not reacting in the slightest. Aelin rolls her eyes at her brother. “Sam is our neighbor. If anything he’s a friend. Mom is just being mom.”

“Yeah, but friendship can evolve,” Aedion says. “Look at me and Lys.”

Lysandra sticks her middle finger up at her husband. “Leave me out of this. Don’t let anyone pressure you, Aelin.” She gives Aelin a meaningful look. “Date whoever you want.”

“Fuck that,” Aedion says with a laugh. “I’ll pressure you all I want. It’s my gods-given right as your older sibling. I’ll make the final call after meeting him for real. We’re all supposed to go to his family’s party this week.” Aedion looks to Rowan, finally. “What do you think of him, Rowan?”

“Sam?” Rowan asks, swallowing the rest of his bite. Aedion nods. Everyone looks at him expectantly. “He’s fine?”

Lysandra cackles loudly. “So he’s a jerk.”

“I said no such thing,” Rowan responds too fast, and Lysandra laughs again. Aelin joins in and pats his knee under the table.

Lysandra commandeers the conversation away from the boy nex tdoor, sensing Rowan’s discomfort. She notices his shirt and asks him about his time in the Army, which he gives a short summary of. He finds that talking about himself is easier in front of Lysandra. He doesn’t feel like he’s being judged on his low-income job, the way the rest of the Ashryver clan makes him feel. He asks Lysandra what she does, and she excitedly pulls out her phone to show Rowan her Instagram. Apparently she’s a Mommy Blogger with a lifestyle brand. He had no idea those people really existed. But the photos are beautiful. Their family looks perfect in each shot.

“Where’s the rest of our family, by the way?” Aelin finally asks as Rowan scrolls through their pictures.

“Mom and Dad are babysitting until fireworks,” Aedion explains, and Aelin’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.

“How’d you manage that one?”

Aedion laughs. “We promised we’d have a sleepover at the house tonight in thanks.”

As they all throw their trash away, Aedion asks if he and Lysandra can join Rowan and Aelin on the rest of their rides for the afternoon. Lysandra tries to tell him that they shouldn’t impose on Aelin’s plans, but it’s clear from the glances between the siblings that they want to spend time with each other, and ultimately it’s Rowan who insists they join.

“Are you sure?” Aelin asks, and Rowan nods. It’s not exactly what he’d planned for their day, but he doesn’t want to be the one responsible for pulling Aelin away from her family. He doesn’t need to give them any other reasons to dislike him. He’s clearly already losing the popular race to Sam.

The rest of the day passes quickly. Rowan is happy to finally get to watch Aelin and her brother interact. They seem to love each other a lot, despite their large age gap. Rowan works overtime to make sure he isn’t touching Aelin in their presence, but she somehow can’t help herself. Each brush of her hand sends him into an aroused frenzy, and by the time they reach their final ride, Rowan feels like he’s going to burst with tension.

They approach the ferris wheel just as the sun is going down. Lysandra pulls her husband into a gondola and closes the door behind them. Aedion looks confused. Four can fit to a gondola.

“I want to make out with my husband, so you kids are going to have to take the next one,” Lysandra says with a wink. Aedion laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“See you on the ground,” he says with a wave and leans in to kiss his wife. Rowan secretly sends a prayer of thanks to Lysandra for inadvertently giving him exactly what he wants.

Aelin and Rowan slip into the next gondola, and Aelin immediately curls up into Rowan’s side. He exhales with relief as he wraps his arm around her shoulders. As the gondola starts to rise, Aelin puts her chin on his chest.

“Thank you for today,” Aelin says sweetly, and he looks down at her big blue eyes.

“I should be thanking _you_ ,” he says. “I did absolutely nothing but use your family’s pass to get into the park.”

“That’s not all you did, and you know it.” Aelin moves her nose against his jaw, her lips ever so close to his neck, but not quite touching. “I know you hadn’t planned on hanging out with my brother. But it meant a lot to me.” She pauses. “I didn’t realize how much I missed him. We usually spend all summer together.”

“He’s pretty cool,” Rowan says. “And I don’t want to take over your summer,” he says, even though it’s a complete lie. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off whenever so you can see your family.”

Aelin bites her lip and adjusts herself to face Rowan more fully. He looks at her face in the blinking light of the amusement park, shaded in pinks and blues and greens. Gods she’s beautiful.

“I don’t want to talk about my family anymore,” Aelin says and leans in to capture Rowan’s lips with hers. It takes him by surprise, but he responds quickly, his mouth moving against hers slowly. He’s been starved for her touch all day, and he’s not going to let the opportunity pass him by. He’s grateful when their gondola comes to a stop, pausing at the top of the wheel. His fingers thread through her hair, and he can feel her smile against his mouth, kissing him with renewed fervor.

They break apart as the wheel continues going and makes its descent. Aelin quickly redoes her ponytail before her brother can see what a mess it’s become with Rowan’s hands in it. She can’t do anything about her swollen lips though, or her flushed cheeks. Rowan hopes Aedion and Lysandra aren’t paying that close attention to them, since they were doing their own canoodling.

By the time they arrive back at the Ashryver’s, the sun has completely gone down and the fireworks are about to start. Evie and Gavin are already showered and in their pajamas as they set up their little chairs on the edge of the patio to watch the show. Gavin waves excitedly at Rowan, and Rowan says hi to the little boy as Aelin disappears inside the house. She comes out with a hoodie and a towel and tells her family that she and Rowan are going to watch from the beach.

The beach is empty when they make their way down to the now-cold sand. Aelin spreads out the blanket and motions for Rowan to sit. He kicks off his shoes and sits next to her. Annoyed, Aelin fixes his legs, so he’s sprawled out enough for her to lean against him. He smiles as she leans into his chest, and he widens his legs so she can fit between them comfortably. They manage to watch about five minutes of the fireworks before Aelin turns around fully and kisses Rowan. He doesn’t even mind that he’s missing the fireworks, since Aelin’s lips are on his, and her arms are wrapped around his neck, and her thighs straddle his.

At the end of the show, Aelin pouts. “I’m sorry you can’t spend the night tonight, but all our rooms are occupied with Aedion and the kids here.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan shrugs, but he’s not anxious to let her go, either. 

“You could drive your truck to the street and then come back and hang out for a little bit longer?” she suggests, and though Rowan feels guilty at the suggestion, he doesn’t fight her on it.

They make their way back to the patio, and Rowan wishes the Ashryvers a good night before following Aelin’s instructions and driving his truck down to the street and returning in the darkness to the back of the house.

He makes his way through the garden gate and to the rose lattice that winds its way up to Aelin’s room. He awkwardly pulls himself up, fearful for his life as his feet find their footholds in the wooden trellis. But sure enough, he’s able to make his way onto her balcony.

He pants loudly as Aelin lets him into her room with a soft giggle, and his eyes roam her half-naked body, which is already clad in a barely there nightgown.

Rowan groans. “Cruel. I can’t have sex with you while your family is across the hall,” he says with the utmost regret.

“You had no problem with my parents being upstairs before,” Aelin pouts. “And I haven’t _been_ with you in so many days…” She grips his shirt and pulls him closer. He can’t think clearly with her this close. He tries to remember all the reasons he was supposed not to have sex with her tonight, but he can’t.

He hasn’t been inside Aelin since the last time he slept over at her house, which was almost a full week ago. He wants her, badly. It takes little convincing to get Rowan into her bed. They take their time, exploring each other with their hands and tongues, savoring each inch and making up for lost time. As he enters her, Aelin’s mouth widens into a silent scream, and they move together silently, making sure not to make a single sound, even as they fall of the precipice of pleasure.

Sweaty and exhausted, Rowan knows he needs to drive home before he falls asleep under her covers. He looks at the time. Nearly 2 am. And he has work tomorrow. He sadly extracts himself from her grasp and kisses her one last time.

“Don’t go,” she says.

“I have to,” he replies sadly. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Satisfied, Aelin’s eyes finally close, and she mumbles out a goodnight, and Rowan stares at her for a second. He’s falling so hard. He’s never felt like this before. Like he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight. With a sad sigh, he turns to the balcony and makes his way into the night and back down the trellis to the garden. He hits the ground with a loud thud and looks around, praying no one heard him.

He smells the cigarette smoke just before he sees Lysandra’s green eyes widen in shock. She sits on the bench below Aelin’s balcony, smoking, in a thin robe, barely lit under the twinkle lights of the rose garden. Rowan freezes and runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s sure looks a mess.

“It’s… not what it looks like?” he says, and Lysandra cracks a wide smile at him and exhales her cigarette smoke.

“Sure, Romeo,” she quips. And Rowan’s stomach turns into a barrel of nerves as Lysandra looks him up and down. He wonders what she sees. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” she finally says, pointing to her cigarette.

“Deal,” Rowan says. As he drives home, he wonders how the hell he’s going to explain this one to Aelin. She was so adamant on not letting her family know. He really hopes Lysandra can keep a secret. _Fuck_.


	15. Chapter 15

Aelin wakes later than usual the next morning, feeling suitably sore in all the right places, and can’t help but smile. She rolls over and sniffs her pillow, which is still scented with faint traces of Rowan’s pine bodywash. And is then hit by the overwhelming scent of sex. Yikes.

She strips down and makes her way into the bathroom, turning on the shower. As the water heats up, Aelin takes a long hard look at herself in the mirror. Her hair is a mess – a flaxen haystack – and her turquoise eyes are bright. Her eyes wander down her naked body, and she lets her hands trace over the faded bruises still marking her hips. New bruises have appeared in new spots, these ones a delicious red-purple spotting across the pale skin of her breasts. Aelin grins. She looks thoroughly ravaged.

Aelin takes a long time in the shower, standing under the hot spray of the water, letting it pelt against her sore muscles and wash away any evidence of the night before.

By the time she makes it downstairs, it’s nearly noon. After pouring herself a large cup of coffee, she wanders out to the back patio, where her family is gathered. Aedion splashes in the pool with Gavin and Evie, while her parents stretch out on their favorite lounge chairs.

“Well, well,” Aedion calls out to his sister. “Look who finally deigned to join the living today.”

Aelin apologizes for sleeping in and sits at the outdoor table with Lysandra, who is enjoying her own cup of coffee.

“Late night?” Lysandra asks, her green eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Aelin says, thinking briefly about the way Rowan’s mouth felt devouring her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Lysandra asks, but Aelin is distracted by an incoming text from Rowan.

**Am I coming to you tonight, or are you coming to me?**

Aelin smiles down at her phone and replies quickly.

**Not sure, but either way, we’ll both be coming tonight.**

Rowan texts back the wide-eyes emoji, making Aelin laugh to herself. Lysandra leans closer to Aelin and lowers her voice. “How’s Rowan?”

Aelin snaps her head up. “Huh?”

Lysandra points to Aelin’s phone. “Oh come on, you can’t sext at the table and not expect me to say something.”

Blood pools in Aelin’s cheeks as she whispers back forcefully, “I am not _sexting_.”

Lysandra stares at Aelin, and Aelin stares right back, unwilling to break. Her pulse thrums, nerves spilling over. But Lysandra’s eyes bore into her, unwaveringly confident. Lysandra knows.

“How’d you know?” Aelin rushes out in a whispered hush.

Lysandra smirks and takes a long sip of her coffee. “I caught him coming out of your window last night.” Lysandra pauses at Aelin’s worried face. “Don’t worry. I’m the only one who knows.”

“You can’t tell Aedion,” Aelin begs.

Lysandra smiles warmly. “Don’t worry, Ae. I can keep a secret.” Aelin looses a breath she doesn’t realize she’s been holding. “He’s so cute, Aelin,” Lysandra says, and Aelin can’t help but smile in return.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Lysandra taps her long, manicured nails on the table and cocks her head to the side, examining Aelin, unnerving her.

“What’s that look for?” Aelin asks.

“Since I’m keeping such a _hefty_ secret from my husband, I’d love if you’d do me a favor in return…”

Aelin’s eyes widen at her sister-in-law. “Are you extorting me?”

Lysandra snickers evilly. “Yes. For childcare.”

“Fine,” Aelin says, willing to do anything to have Lysandra keep this information to herself. “When?”

“Tonight?” Lysandra asks. “Aedion wants to take me out to dinner. I’m sure we’ll be done early. You can still see your boy toy after. Or during. I don’t care, honestly. As long as you don’t fuck on our couch.”

“With the kids in the house?” Aelin sputters, shocked. “I would never.”

Lysandra laughs loudly. “Oh, please. You did _last night_.”

Aelin can’t say anything in response to that because Lysandra is right. She totally did that. But still. She would _never_ in her brother’s house.

Lysandra calls out to Aedion loudly, telling him to book their dinner. She tells her children that Auntie Ae is going to hang out with them tonight, and the kids cheer from the pool, warming Aelin’s heart. She does love spending time with her niece and nephew.

She immediately texts Rowan to tell him the updated plan. That she’s going to be babysitting at Aedion’s, but he’s welcome to join once he gets off work, then they can decide if they want to go back to Aelin’s or to Rowan’s from there.

Rowan sends back to thumbs up emojis. Aelin laughs. He must be in a good mood to be so active on text and to be using emojis so liberally. He’s usually the type of person who responds with a “ **K** ,” leaving Aelin completely unsatisfied and wondering where he stands. She likes that he seems to be opening up to her.

Stomach grumbling, Aelin goes back into the house to scour the fridge for whatever Emrys has left for them today. She finds leftover skirt steak and veggie rice. It’s not exactly breakfast, but Aelin is too hungry to care. As she waits for her plate to heat in the microwave, Aelin hears a knock at the door.

Aelin’s surprised to see Sam waiting on her front stoop, although she’s not sure why. This is the third time he’s done this. It’s practically routine for Sam to show up at her house unannounced these days.

“Hey, Sam…”

He flashes her a too-white smile and asks what she’s up to for the day. Aelin’s about to say that she’s having a family day when her mom appears from behind her. She spots Sam and welcomes him in, embracing him in a tight hug.

“I hope it’s okay that I stopped by, Evalin,” he says, so casually calling her mom by her first name. But Evalin doesn’t seem to care. She hurries him into the kitchen to offer him something to drink or eat. He politely declines, saying he just ate brunch and wanted to see what their household was up to.

Aelin grabs her plate of food and heads out to the back patio, where Sam introduces himself to Lysandra and Aedion and the kids.

Rhoe shakes his hand, telling him how nice it is to see him again, but Aelin notices her dad lies back down quickly and returns to his book, leaving Sam hanging slightly.

“So, I confess,” Sam begins. “I actually came here with ulterior motives.”

“Oh?” Evalin asks, leading him.

Sam turns to Aelin. “I was hoping I could take you out tonight, Aelin.” 

Evalin starts to say, “How wonderful!” when Aelin responds that she can’t.

“Sorry,” Aelin says, feeling anything but. “I already promised Lys and Aedion that I’d babysit for them tonight.”

Evalin looks like she’s about to offer herself up for babysitting when Rhoe smiles at his daughter. “That was very nice of you, Fireheart. I’m sure the kids are excited.” He looks at the two kids, still paddling in circles around Aedion in the pool. “What do you say, Evie, Gavin, you excited to spend tonight with your favorite Aunt?”

The kids cheer again, and Gavin starts babbling about how they have to watch _Toy Story_. Aelin smiles, thinking of the small Buzz Lightyear toy he carries around with him everywhere. Aelin shrugs at Sam, as if to say, you see?

But Sam isn’t deterred. “Well, I know you’ll all be at my party tomorrow night, but perhaps the following night?”

Everyone looks at Aelin, who is totally and utterly stuck. She has no _real_ plans the night after next, unless wanting to see Rowan is a plan. Sam knows exactly what he’s doing, asking her in front of her mother, who is practically salivating at the idea of them getting together. She can’t say no without publicly rejecting him in front of a large group of people and making things incredibly awkward.

“Sure…” she replies reluctantly, and Sam and her mother wear matching beaming smiles in response. Aelin has no clue how she’s going to clear this one with Rowan. She figures she’ll talk to him about it tonight, though. Hopefully she can convince him it’s not a big deal.

After securing his date, Sam stays and chats with Evalin about the plans for his big yacht party. For much too long. Aelin feels like he’s overstaying his welcome, but Evalin engages in conversation with him the entire time. It helps that Evalin is a known event planner, and she is quick to offer any assistance he might need. Sam thanks her graciously, but says he has it handled, and he can’t wait to see them all tomorrow.

As Sam leaves, Evalin can’t help but gush at her daughter. “He is so sweet, isn’t he?”

Aelin gives a weak smile to her mom and spends the rest of the afternoon in the music room, playing through her piano book, trying to relax herself. It doesn’t work.

At five, Lysandra and Aedion pile their family into their car and drag Aelin with them the short drive to their own house. It’s not as grandiose as the Ashryver Estate, more of a small beach cottage in a less expensive part of town. But it’s warm and homey and cozy, and Aelin loves it.

As Gavin and Evie are sent upstairs for their showers, Aelin puts in an order for pizza. She texts Rowan what he likes on a pizza, and tells him she’ll save him some. He replies that he likes spinach, mushrooms and olives. Aelin sends him back a vomit emoji and tells him he only gets a quarter with those gross toppings. Aelin orders the rest with cheese and pepperoni.

Lysandra and Aedion come back down, looking ready for their date, and Aelin can’t help but smile at her sibling. He looks so excited to take his wife out on the town. She doesn’t blame her. Lysandra looks gorgeous in a slinky green dress that makes her eyes pop.

“Have fun you two,” she says.

Lysandra smiles. “You, too.” She pauses and looks meaningfully at the couch. “But not too much fun.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and laughs. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

She waves the parents out of the house and waits for Gavin and Evie to join her on the couch. She cues up _Toy Story_ and texts Rowan the address for Aedion’s house.

Aelin smiles at the sound of pitter pattering coming down the stairs as Gavin and Evie jump onto the couch. They wear matching striped pajamas and smell like Johnson & Johnson kiddie shampoo. The doorbell rings right on time, and Aelin goes to grab the pizza.

She brings plates and a giant stack of napkins into the family room and hands out slices of pizza to the two kids, who look at her with wide eyes.

“We’re not allowed to eat on the couch!” Gavin whispers.

“It’s a special treat,” Aelin says. “Don’t tell your mom or dad.”

Gavin nods conspiratorially and takes a too large bite of his pizza. Evie giggles as she takes a daintier bite than her brother, but soon the giggles fade to make way for the movie, which they watch with rapt attention.

Gavin passes out about an hour into the movie, but Evie makes it all the way to the end, albeit with very sleepy eyes. Playing in the pool in the sun all day is more than enough to have the two of them turn in early.

Aelin carries Gavin up to his room and tucks him in without him even stirring in her arms. By the time she reaches Evie’s room, she’s tucked herself in. Aelin gives her a quick kiss and turns the lights off and heads back down to watch some TV.

She slides the back patio door and texts Rowan that she’s left it open for him, so he doesn’t have to ring the bell or knock and wake anyone up.

Aelin cleans up the leftover pizza, putting Rowan’s two slices into a ziplock baggie, and throws the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

By the time she’s finished, she’s startled to hear the door open. Lysandra and Aedion fumble their keys, clearly tipsy, and trying to squash their giggling. Aelin glances at the clock – already 8:30. Rowan should be there any second.

Lysandra looks around her immaculate kitchen and hugs Aelin and kisses her soundly on the cheek. “You are the best.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Where’s Rowan?”

“Rowan?” Aedion asks. “Why would he be here?”

Lysandra waves her hand at her husband. “I told Aelin she could invite a friend over to keep her company.”

Aelin smiles, thankful for even a drunk Lysandra keeping her secret. “He actually should be getting here momentarily. He’s coming straight from work,” Aelin explains.

Aedion hums, clearly uninterested, and changes topics to Aelin’s least favorite. “So, are you excited to go on your date with Sam?” he asks.

“No, of course not,” Aelin bemoans her unfortunate situation. “Like I said yesterday. We’re just friends.”

“Why?” Aedion asks. “He’s clearly into you.”

“Oh my god,” Lysandra bursts. “Because she’s obviously in love with Rowan!”

“Lysandra!” Aelin whisper yells at her sister-in-law, who slaps her hand over her loose lips. “You promised.”

“I’m sorry, Aelin,” Lysandra apologizes. “But sometimes your brother is so dumb.”

Aelin groans in frustration. She knows this is about to be a whole _thing_.

“Whoa, whoa whoa.” Aedion holds up his hand, needing clarification. “What?”

Aelin huffs. “So much for keeping secrets.” She pauses and glares at Lysandra, who, to her credit, looks incredibly apologetic. “First of all, I’m not _in love_ with anyone.” She sighs and tugs at her hair. “We’re just… hanging out.”

Aedion’s eyes bug out of his head. “You’re fucking the staff?”

“Gods,” Aelin hisses. “I am not talking about this with you.”

She goes to gather Rowan’s plastic baggie of pizza from the kitchen, hoping they’ll be able to book it out of there as soon as he arrives.

“What is this?” Aedion asks, following her every step. “Some sort of porno fetish? Rich girl gets her rocks off with the gardener kind of thing?”

Aelin is nothing short of horrified at Aedion’s comment. She can’t believe he thinks that, much less verbalize it. Her face turns red as she splutters, “You did _not_ just say that.”

“I mean, if the shoe fits…”

“Rowan is not our gardener, he works at the park!” Aelin says, and Aedion shrugs.

“Tomato, tom-ah-to.”

Lysandra slaps Aedion’s arm. “Don’t be a jerk.” Lysandra looks back at Aelin, who is standing defensively, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her brother. “I think Rowan is great.” She pokes her husband again. “And whoever Aelin wants to be with is no one’s business but hers. And having a trust fund doesn’t make you a worthy human, or did you forget that I had to bartend my way through college?”

Aedion rubs Lysandra’s arm and coos, “Babe...”

But Lysandra has had enough. “Don’t babe me,” she snaps. “You were going to get laid tonight, but now I think I’m going to head out to the hot tub by myself, you snob.”

“Babe,” Aedion apologizes. “Don’t be like that. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one who needs an apology,” Lysandra says, her glare stern.

“I’m sorry,” Aedion grumbles at Aelin. “I didn’t mean that. I was just…surprised. Mom and Dad—”

Aelin gasps, panicked. “You can’t tell them, Aed. They would _not_ be okay with it. And it’s just for the summer. It’ll be over in a few weeks, and you’ll never hear the name Rowan again. There’s no need to tell them, right?”

Aedion sighs. “Fine.”

Aelin exhales. “Thank you.” She looks at the pizza in her hand and back at the clock, which now reads 8:45 PM. Still no Rowan. “I’m going to wait out front for Rowan.” She says resolutely. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Aelin makes her way out to the front steps and texts Rowan that she’ll wait for him out front, so not to worry about the back door anymore. She sits up straighter when she sees a flash of headlights but deflates when they keep driving straight and don’t turn into the driveway.

Aelin sits on the front stoop to wait. She shifts uncomfortably, trying to push down the horrible things Aedion said and focus on the night ahead. She’s still excited to see Rowan, despite what her family clearly thinks of him. Aelin stares into the darkness, willing more headlights to come, but they never do. She finally glances at the time. A full hour has passed, and she still hasn’t heard from Rowan.

**Hey, where are you?** She texts him. There’s no reply.

And after another fifteen minutes of waiting, Aelin’s stomach sinks. Rowan isn’t coming. And she has no ride home.

Aelin makes her way around to the back of the house, where the kitchen door is still open. She sneaks inside and Lysandra yelps when she sees her walk into the family room.

“Aelin, gods, you scared me,” she gasps. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Aelin bites her lip. “Uh, are you sober enough to give me a ride home?” Her voice cracks, and she hates how pathetic she sounds.

“Sure…” Lysandra says. She knows Lysandra wants to ask her wha happened, but Aelin shakes her head. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She clearly got blown off.

Lysandra grabs the car keys and Aelin slides into the passenger seat. She drives her back home in complete silence. Aelin doesn’t even begin to know what she would say. When they arrive at the Estate, Lysandra grabs Aelin’s arm.

“Do you want me to drive through town? Maybe his car broke down or…”

“No, Lys, it’s fine.” Aelin sighs.

“It’s not.” She pauses. “And I’m sorry my drunk ass spilled your secret. I thought…” She sighs. “I forgot Aedion can be a total snob.”

Aelin waves her off, just wanting to escape the car. It’s been a long, weird day, and she just wants it to be over. Lysandra wishes her goodbye and tells her it’ll be okay, but Aelin feels less certain than ever.

Aelin takes her time showering for the second time that day. This time, the hot water burns her skin and does nothing to help relax her.

She gets into bed and stares at her phone. As if she willed it to happen, it finally lights up with a text from Rowan.

**Sorry. Got pulled out by the guys for drinks and my phone died. Home now. But I’ll see you tomorrow?**

Aelin replies with a Rowan signature text, simply saying, “ **K.** ”

She gets under the covers and rolls over. Her pillow still smells of pine. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes and unwillingly spill over her cheek and onto the cushion beneath her head. She closes her eyes, hoping the ache in her chest will disappear quickly. When she wakes the next morning, her pillow is still damp and no longer smells like pine. Aelin cries again.


	16. Chapter 16

Rowan squints against the burst of light burning against his closed eyelids.

“Wake up, sunshine,” Manon sings loudly. Way too loudly. Rowan groans and buries his head beneath the pillow, needing to block out the painful light from his vision. He breathes in deeply, relieved to be in darkness again. But Manon isn’t having it. She pulls the pillow off his face, forcing him to wake up.

“It’s already after 2pm. You smell like a distillery, and you look like shit. What’s going on?”

Rowan snatches the pillow back and rests his head on it. He looks at Manon, who is waiting expectantly for some sort of explanation, but he doesn’t want to give it. He’d rather not talk to anyone at all today, in fact.

Manon lifts the empty bottle of whiskey from Rowan’s floor and holds it up. “Did you finish this whole thing last night?” she asks, incredulous. “There was a _lot_ left in this bottle. What the fuck, Rowan? I paid for half of this.”

“Just felt like getting drunk,” Rowan says, his head throbbing painfully. “I’ll pay you back.”

“You felt like getting drunk?” she asks, eyebrow raised. “Aren’t we supposed to be heading to a super swanky open bar yacht party in a few hours? You couldn’t wait one night to get wasted?”

Rowan shoves his face back into his pillow. “I’m not going.” Manon pulls the comforter off him in a swift motion. “Hey!” he grumbles. “Not cool, Man.”

His eyes are closed again, but he can tell by her tone that she’s glaring at him. “You _are_ going, because _I’m_ going. Elide is going to be there without Lorcan.”

“So why do you need me to be the third wheel?” Rowan asks, now hungover and cold without his blanket. He reaches for it, but Manon steps back, out of his arm’s range.

“You know what? I don’t care what you’re so upset about. Get over it. You’re coming.” She looks him over. “If you’re not in the shower in two hours, I’ll drag you in there myself.” She pauses and bunches up his blankets in her arms. “And I’m keeping this.”

She walks out of his room, leaving his door open behind her, and Rowan groans again. His head is in serious pain. He can’t remember the last time he was this hungover. But he needed some way to put himself to sleep last night. He just kept hearing Aelin’s dismissive words over and over, echoing in his head and punching into his stomach, making him feel sick.

_It’s just for the summer. It’ll be over in a few weeks. You’ll never hear the name Rowan again._

He knew he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but – the door was open, and they were yelling, for fuck’s sake. So when he heard his own name, he stayed hidden in the shadows to listen.

He thinks listening to that conversation might be the worst mistake of his life. He’d rather be living in ignorant bliss. At least he could be hopeful that way. But he can’t erase what he’s heard. It was one thing for Aelin’s family to look down on him; he expected that. But for Aelin to think of him that way, as disposable, as less than? After weeks of spending time together, of him opening up to her – something he barely did with anyone. He thought maybe, just maybe, she had started feeling things for him, too. He could not have been more wrong. And he was nothing short of devastated. Whiskey was the only cure.

There’s no way he can face her today. Especially not at Sam’s fancy yacht party. He knows he was invited only because he was sitting there. Sam definitely does _not_ want him there, and Rowan doesn’t particularly want to spend the night watching Sam undress Aelin with his eyes. And he has no desire to make small talk with the 1%, who think he’s some illiterate, poverty-stricken vagrant, crashing their holiday.

Rowan dozes for the next hour, until Manon’s banging around the kitchen reaches new noisy heights. Only then does he roll out of bed and into the shower. He scrubs his skin raw, trying to wash away his wounded pride, but his insecurity clouds around him, wrapping itself in a tight chokehold, a vice grip around his chest.

By the time he’s dressed and ready, it’s already six. Which Manon says is perfect timing. They’ll be fashionably late. Because arriving on time to a fancy party is apparently a no-go.

“You look nice,” Manon comments, and Rowan relaxes slightly. He wasn’t sure what to wear. But Manon seems to approve of his navy button down and stone colored pants. The only shoes he has are his flip flops, but Manon assures him he’ll have to take his shoes off when he gets there. He has no idea how she knows so much about boats.

She looks at him and reaches out a hand, asking for silent permission. Rowan nods, unsure what she’s going to. She grabs the cuff of his sleeve and rolls it up, so it comes to rest just below his elbow and exposes his forearms. “Perfect,” she says, admiring her handiwork.

They uber to Sam’s yacht quickly. Rowan finally glances at his phone for the first time all day and is saddened to see no text from Aelin. Though he’s not surprised. Rowan steels his nerves the entire time, trying to work his way up to putting that mask back on, forcing himself to make it through tonight without letting Aelin know how completely crushed he is. By the time they arrive, he’s almost got it. Though he could definitely use another drink. As they exit the vehicle, Rowan can already hear the heavy bass of music coming from the marina.

Rowan’s eyes widen when the boat comes into view. It’s massive. A three decked monstrosity packed to the brim with partiers, all looking preppier than the last. It’s a sea of men wearing pastels and linen blazers and women in too tight cocktail dresses. A valet instructs them to check their shoes before stepping onto the boat and motions for them to enter. Rowan immediately heads for the first bar he sees, to which Manon gives him a pointed look.

“Best cure for a hangover,” he says cheekily, and she simply rolls her eyes. He gets a specialty cocktail – a deep red sangria, which seems like a poor choice, given how many people are wearing white, but whatever. He takes one sip and deems it too sweet and hands it off immediately to Manon, getting himself a whiskey.

“Oh thank God,” a familiar voice calls from behind him. “People I know.” Dorian smiles nervously as he refills his own glass. “I’ve been here with my parents for two hours,” he explains. “If I have to hear about one more word about annual reports or dividends or IPOs, I might just drop dead right here on this deck.”

“Aelin’s not here yet?” Rowan asks evenly, trying to control his mess of emotions. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice.

“She’s having a hard time getting dressed.” Dorian shrugs. “Apparently the dress she wanted to wear is not summery enough? And her other option was too fancy? Last I heard she was going through Lysandra’s closet. I don’t know. Girls. Am I right?” he asks Manon with a nudge and a wink. She rolls her eyes, but Rowan can tell she’s utterly delighted by him. Dorian snorts and takes out his phone, typing something quickly and sending it off. “She’ll come quickly now that she knows you’re here, though.” Rowan forces a smile and takes a long sip of his drink.

Dorian is right, though. Aelin and her family arrive all too soon, making their way onto the boat like royalty, crowds parting for them and everyone greeting them with hugs and smiles.

Rowan’s breath catches as he watches Aelin sweep across the deck. She’s impossible to miss in her long cherry red dress and her lips painted to match. A large slit up the skirt gives a peek of her thigh as she walks, fabric fluttering behind her with each step, and long earrings dangle down to just above her bare shoulders. She’s a vision. She doesn’t even notice all the eyes on her, or the entrance she’s making.

Sam, who Rowan hasn’t seen since arriving, materializes from within the cabin to greet her. Rowan clenches his jaw as Sam pulls her into a hug, and Rowan gets a look at the back of her dress. Though relatively modest in the front, the back of the dress is nearly completely bare, held together by one small tie beneath her shoulder blades. Her hair is tied back in an elegant bun away from her neck, and Sam’s hand takes advantage of the expanse of skin, resting low on the her back.

“Breathe, Rowan,” Manon whispers. And Rowan exhales slowly.

“Stuffed mushroom cap?” a cater waiter asks, stopping in front of them and breaking Rowan out of his Aelin-induced trance. The three of them all reach for the appetizer, and Rowan plops it into his mouth in one bite. He hates how delicious it is.

“Aelin!” Dorian shouts, motioning her over to where Rowan and Manon are standing. Aelin sees him and lights up. He notices her smile falter when she spots him, but she plasters it back on as she and Elide make their way over.

She greets Dorian with a large hug and tucks her head into the crook of his shoulder. He pulls her into his side and looks down at her, confusion clear in his eyes.

“That’s some dress you’ve got there, Ace,” Dorian says and whistles. “I hope that lipstick is smudge-proof,” he says with a laugh.

Aelin’s cheek redden as she elbows him and tells him to shut up. Rowan stares at Aelin, unable to look away, and she finally looks up him through her thick lashes. “Hey,” she whispers quietly, and Rowan nods his head in acknowledgment, nervous that his voice will break if he says anything just yet.

Dorian looks at Elide and Aelin and asks what they want to drink. “Come on, El, Manon, let’s go to the bar,” Dorian says, ushering them away. Rowan rubs at his chin, unsure what to say now that he’s alone with Aelin.

“You look beautiful,” Rowan says, the same time Aelin continues with a “So, you went out with the guys?” Their voices clash and stumble over each other awkwardly.

“Thanks,” she says. Her hand comes up to play with her earring, and he watches as her fingers nervously play with the small hanging jewels.

“Yeah…” Rowan begins. “I lost track of time and then my phone died. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. He’s surprised how easily the lies flow from his tongue.

“I saved your pizza,” she says, and his heart twists again. “Maybe you could come by after the party and get it?”

Rowan swallows the remainder of his whiskey. It settles in his stomach like a rock, instead of soothing him like it usually does.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Rowan says, and he tries to ignore her disappointment.

“Oh.” She bites on her bottom lip, and Rowan longs to pull it free from her tooth and kiss her right in front of everyone, but he knows that’s the last thing Aelin wants.

“I just figured you’d want to cool off a little after being caught by your sister-in-law,” he says, and Aelin nods.

“Right.”

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “I was going to tell you about that last night, but…”

“You got caught up.”

“Right,” Rowan repeats back to her.

Their conversation stills, both of them staring at each other, wanting to hear what the other person is saying but not quite understanding. Rowan doesn’t want to cool off – not at all – but he thinks space might be the best thing for him right now. He can’t get pulled further down this path, which inevitably ends in misery.

As they stand there in silence, Dorian and Manon and Elide return with drinks, and Manon passes him another glass of whiskey. The tension is a thick blanket around them as they all sip their drinks, until Dorian breaks the silence.

“Should we go dance?”

Aelin nods. “That sounds great.” She smiles. “You know I love a dance floor.” She looks at Rowan. “You coming?”

“I’ll meet you in there,” he says. Manon looks at him curiously as they all head into the cabin, where the dance floor must be, and Rowan snaps at her.

“I told you I didn’t want to come.” Manon sighs and follows Aelin, Elide and Dorian in, leaving Rowan alone.

He breathes in a ragged breath and heads to the bow of the boat, which is sparsely populated. Rowan stares over the railing at the view and nurses his whiskey. The sun hovers over the water, disappearing behind the horizon, swirling into whorls of pink and purple and blue. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, alone, but by the time he hears other people coming to infiltrate his solitude, his glass of whiskey is long empty and the sky is dark and studded with stars.

He’s about to head into the cabin when he hears Aelin’s name come out of some guy’s mouth, and his ears perk up.

“I can’t believe it only took you a week to get into Aelin Ashryver’s pants,” one of the bros comments crassly, and Rowan freezes. He looks over his shoulder, and sure enough a gaggle of prepsters surround Sam, who wears a cocky grin across his face. “It took Chaol a full _year_ for her to give it up.”

Sam chortles obnoxiously. “Calm down. I haven’t gotten in there yet. But ask me tomorrow night after our date.” He winks, and all the guys around him whoop and holler.

Rowan’s fist clenches around his empty glass. He hates this dude with every fiber of his being. He would never talk about Aelin like this. No one should talk about _anyone_ like this.

“Oh it’s going down,” another bro jumps in. “Did you see what she was wearing and how she was grinding all over that girl on the dance floor? Who was that show for, dude?”

Sam laughs. “Shit, man, I know. I have half a mind to ask her to wear that lipstick again tomorrow night, just so I can see it wrapped around my c—”

Glass shards splinter as the glass cracks in Rowan’s grasp. He swears loudly as the glass pieces fall to the ground and scatter around his bare feet.

The sound of breaking glass pulls Sam’s attention, and he jogs over to where Rowan stands. “Don’t move, man. I’ll go get the medic.”

Rowan looks up, confused, until he feels blood drip from his palm where one of the shards sliced his palm open.

A waiter rushes out with a broom, sweeping the broken pieces away from Rowan’s feet and wipes up the droplets of blood staining the deck. Rowan can’t be taken anywhere. Sam returns with a medic and thanks the waiter for cleaning up.

“This is why they tell you not to have glass on a boat,” Sam chuckles, pointing at everyone’s bare feet. “But I refused to let the caterers use plastic. They look so cheap.”

Rowan nods, as if he understands, but really, he just wants Sam to leave him alone.

He hisses in pain as the medic uses tweezers to pull a tiny sliver of glass from his hand. “I only have medical glue,” the medic explains as he cleans the wound. “You should probably go to the hospital and get real stitches, but this will stop the bleeding for now.”

Sam claps Rowan’s shoulder and goes back to his asshole friends, confident that Rowan is being taken care of. He glues the skin together and wraps it in a tight bandage. He doesn’t give Rowan any pain killers, since he’s been drinking.

Rowan has been miserable and in pain all day, and now he is literally bleeding. He thinks it’s time for him to make an exit.

He searches for his friends all around the boat, his hand throbbing the whole time. Finally, he spots them in a small circle with Aelin’s family. Rowan grits his teeth and approaches swiftly. He wants to pull Manon aside, but he’s completely unable to without being noticed.

“Rowan!” Evalin and Rhoe welcome him with wide smiles, and Rowan hates how fake it all feels. “Where have you been all night?”

“Getting into trouble,” he says, holding up his bandaged hand. They all gasp, but he laughs it off, not wanting it to seem like a big deal. “Can’t take me anywhere.” He turns to Manon. “I’m gonna head home, okay?” He smiles at the circle. “Hate to say hey and run, but…”

Manon says she’ll come with him, but Rowan insists she stay. He doesn’t want to interrupt her night. Manon tells him she’ll check on him when she gets home, and Rowan shoos her off, not needing her babying today.

They all wave goodbye, and Rowan heads to pick up his flip flops from where he checked them. He gets them quickly, since it’s still fairly early in the evening and the party is still raging on.

He’s almost all the way down the dock when he hears soft feet padding after him. “Rowan!” Aelin calls out, and he stops and turns, watching her jog toward him, a cloud of red fabric billowing behind her like a vibrant storm.

“What happened?” she asks, picking up his injured hand, and he snatches it back. He tries to ignore the flash of hurt on her face and breathes evenly as he places his mask of calm back on.

“You have a date with Sam.” It’s not a question, and Aelin knows it. She nods. 

“I was going to tell you last night, but…”

Rowan swallows. “It’s fine.” He shakes his head and chuckles softly. “I just don’t get it.”

“I had to say yes,” Aelin explains.

“You don’t have to do anything, Aelin,” Rowan says emphatically, the whiskey coursing through his system loosening his lips and confusing his filter.

“I did,” Aelin sighs. “You don’t understand, but it would have reflected really bad on my family if I’d turned him down. It wouldn’t be polite.”

Rowan tilts his head up to the sky. “You’re right. I don’t understand. Sorry, I don’t know all the rules of being a rich kid.”

“That’s not it,” Aelin says, starting to become frustrated, but Rowan is more than frustrated. He’s hurt. Everything about tonight has made it incredibly obvious how little he fits into Aelin’s world. It’s no wonder she views him as temporary. 

“And what if he kisses you after your date?” Rowan goads. “Wants to fuck you?” Rowan’s breath becomes unsteady, thinking about her being with someone else, thinking about Sam’s bragging earlier. “Do you have to accept that to be polite, too?”

Aelin looks like she wants to slap him. He’s actually proud of her restraint for not smacking him with how callous he’s being. He knows he’s lashing out so she can’t see how deep her wounds went, but it doesn’t make his words any better.

“I don’t know what I did to make you mad at me when _you’re_ the one who stood me up last night!” Aelin blinks rapidly, and it takes Rowan a second to realize that she’s blinking back tears. He really is an asshole.

A firework lights up the sky overhead with bright lights and a loud boom, but neither Aelin or Rowan look away from each other. Their eyes are locked in an angry stalemate.

As another firework bursts above them, Rowan grabs at Aelin and pulls her into the shadow of the nearest boat and out of the fluorescent beams that light the dock. He wraps his arms around her waist, holding her firmly against him. His good hand trails across the small of her bare back, like he’s been longing to all night. She relaxes back into him, but she never looks away. Her eyes widen, and he stares into the molten gold that pools around her pupils, lit up from the crackling colors in the sky.

He leans down and kisses her, softly at first. But soft is soon discarded as their frustration bubbles to the surface. She tugs at his hair, pulling it sharply, and his fingers dig into her bare skin. Teeth knock against each other as their lips crash into each other again and again. Mouths breathing into each other as they gasp for air. Frantic, they can’t touch each other fast enough or hard enough. Aelin’s fingers go towards his belt as another firework cracks in the sky above them. Rowan steps away, out of the shadow and back onto the brightly lit dock. He’s drunk on her kisses, and he needs to sober up.

He breathes hard and wipes his mouth. Aelin fixes her dress and steps out after him.

“Have a good date,” Rowan says harshly, and walks away.

Aelin stands on the dock, hands crossed over her stomach, as if she’s holding herself together. Minutes later, when Rowan gets into his Uber, he looks over his shoulder. Aelin still stands motionless, looking utterly lost. He’s long gone by the time she makes her way back to the boat.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thump._

Rowan wakes up, unsettled by a loud noise coming from the living room.

“Shhh…” A loud whisper hushes. “My roommate is sleeping,” Manon slurs, followed by excessive giggling.

He looks at the clock. Just past 3AM. Rowan frowns. This is not what the needs right now. 

Another thump followed by an “Ow!” and more giggles wakes him up entirely.

Another too loud shush as he hears two bodies stumble towards Manon’s bedroom, laughter trailing after them the whole way.

Manon’s door slams shut, and Rowan tries to close his eyes and fall back asleep. But soon soft moaning begins. Rowan rubs his hand over his face and cringes. He is so not in the mood for this. He just wants to sleep and temporarily forget about all his troubles. Is that too much to ask for?

He usually sleeps through Manon’s exploits. But not tonight. The moans are interlaced with profanities and the sound of thumping against the wall. The moans reach a crescendo, and Rowan has never been so insanely grateful for people to orgasm and go to sleep. But, minutes later, the moaning starts again.

Rowan puts his pillow over his head, trying to block out the noise, but he’s too attuned to it. He hears every sigh and whisper and expletive, and his entire body is on alert, far too anxious to fall asleep. He stays awake until the wee hours of the morning when Manon and her paramour _finally_ settle down.

Rowan’s alarm goes off far too soon, much to his dismay. His head throbs with the lack of sleep, and his hand itches beneath his bandage. He knows he’s in for a rough day – and not just because of the event that’s going to happen tonight that he _definitely_ doesn’t want to think about yet.

As he gets ready, he’s shocked to hear movement out in the kitchen. He’s so tired, he can’t imagine anyone else being voluntarily awake right now. He peeks out of his bedroom to see Manon, in her robe, making coffee. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s humming lightly. She smiles like the cat who ate the canary, and Rowan shudders. Smiles look terrifying on her.

“You look like crap again,” Manon says, sipping from her large red mug, eyebrows raised. “Want to tell me what happened last night?” She points to his injured hand.

“Not really,” Rowan says, reaching for the coffee pot himself, but Manon slaps his hand away.

“I’m making that for my guest,” she hisses, narrowing her golden eyes at him.

Rowan ignores her and pours himself a mug. “You and your _guest_ kept me up all night, so I’m going to need some caffeine to make it through today.”

Rowan is dreading today. He really wishes he’d at least been able to sleep. 

“Sorry,” Manon apologizes, though she sounds anything but.

“Hey, babe,” a warm voice calls sleepily. “I thought I heard noise out here.”

The woman who exits Manon’s room is absolutely stunning – she wears one of Manon’s tank tops and a pair of underwear, showing off the expanse of her dark skin, swirling with intricate art. Long dark braids fade to pink and fall down her back, making her look just as effortlessly cool as Manon. Her rich brown eyes flick to Rowan in surprise and she waves timidly.

Manon simply pulls the woman into her side and kisses her cheek. “Nimi, this is Rowan, my roommate. Rowan, this is Nehemia. We met on the yacht last night. You know, after you weirdly bailed.”

Manon is clearly asking Rowan to explain himself, but he’s in far too grumpy to attempt that.

Nehemia holds out her hand, and Rowan shakes it. “You can call me Nimi,” she clarifies, her accent rounding out the sharp vowels of her name. “Like Mimi, but with an N.” She smiles at Rowan, and he’s again awestruck by how beautiful she is. He’s constantly impressed by the caliber of girls Manon brings home, but Nehemia is a step above and beyond. Despite being exhausted, Rowan returns her smile in earnest. He guesses Manon deserves a night of fun, too, despite his own drama.

“I’m going to be late for work,” Rowan grumbles, looking at the time.

“This is my surprised face,” Manon deadpans, making Nehemia giggle that same giggle that Rowan heard over and over last night.

Rowan wishes them goodbye, and as he closes the door he hears Manon laugh. “Thank gods. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Rowan flees the premises faster, not wanting to even imagine the volume they’re about to reach. Also, he has to desire to be around happily coupled people right now.

He’s never been so glad to go to work. At least at the park, he’ll be distracted all day and around other miserable people.

Except for some reason, everyone at the park is having their best day ever. Even Lorcan, who usually skulks around the ground with a permanent scowl is buoyant and grinning as he hands out tickets with Rowan at the front booth.

He finds out why during his lunch break when Lorcan tentatively approaches Elide and asks if the steak house is okay for dinner tonight, to which Elide readily nods, leaving the pair nervously smiling and blushing at each other.

Gods, does everyone have a date tonight, Rowan wonders to himself. What was in those cocktails last night? Some sort of aphrodisiac?

Rowan pulls out his phone, notably devoid of text notifications, and wonders if he should reach out to Aelin. He wants her to be thinking about him during her date. He knows that’s selfish and stupid and totally the opposite of what he asked for, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t trust Sam at all, and something plagues Rowan’s stomach; that Sam will be in Aelin’s life long after he leaves it. The thought makes him nauseous.

He sits, picking at his lunch, but unable to really eat. Elide takes the seat next to him and gives him a small smile.

“How’s the hand doing?” she asks, pointing to the bandage still wrapped around Rowan’s palm. He shrugs. “You were missed last night,” Elide says, her tone insinuating much more than her plain words.

Rowan chuckles softly and looks at Lorcan, who is staring at the back of Elide’s head. “Yeah, what the hell happened after I left? I got woken up by…uh…company.”

Elide laughs back. “Oh man, isn’t Nimi so cool? She’s a friend of Dorian’s.” Her eyes glaze over, as if she’s playing the night back across her memory. “Basically, we decided to get sloshed and be each other’s wingmen.”

“It seems like you were all successful,” Rowan says, stabbing a piece of his cold chicken. Elide smiles and looks over her shoulder at Lorcan, who immediately looks down at being caught staring. “So, how’d that happen?” Rowan asks, curious about his two managers. “When I left Lorcan was not at the party…”

“Manon told me to stop being a coward – except, she used a much crasser word that I don’t like saying out loud.” Elide scrunches her nose. “So, I showed up drunk on Lorcan’s doorstep.”

Rowan’s jaw drops. “You did _what?_ ”

“Shut up. I know.” Elide covers her face. “I’ve never done anything like that in my entire life.”

“So, what happened?” Rowan asks, leaning forward. This gossip is the best kind of distraction for his aching heart.

Elide looks through her fingers, embarrassed. “He put me to bed in his bed and slept on the couch.” She snorts. “And then this morning I got really mad at him for not making a move, and he said that he would never take advantage of a drunk woman.” She smiles softly. “And that he insisted on taking me out first.” Elide takes a large sip of her drink and frowns. “Gods, I’m sorry. You didn’t need all those details. I haven’t even told Aelin yet.”

Rowan clears his throat, unsure if he should ask what he’s going to, but he can’t stop himself. “And did Aelin meet anyone new?”

Elide furrows her brows and frowns. “No. I assumed she went to go meet you?” Elide says. “She left the party with her parents shortly after you did.”

“Oh.” Rowan isn’t sure what to make of that detail. He stabs another bite of chicken.

Elide starts to say something and then pauses, and then starts again. And then pauses. Rowan rolls his eyes in frustration. “Just spit it out.”

“You should just tell her,” Elide says. Rowan raises an eyebrow at the petite brunette. “That it’s not casual for you.” Rowan swallows thickly but shakes his head and scoffs. Elide continues. “I’m just saying it as a person who wishes someone had told me to stop being a…” she lowers her voice to the softest whisper, “pussy.” Rowan cracks a small smile. “…sooner.

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

Rowan nods as Elide heads off, left with his head spinning around.

He takes his phone back out and stares at it. He hates the way he left things with Aelin last night. But what is he supposed to text her? Best wishes on your date tonight? No. He can’t say anything. He has to just suffer through this hellish day and hope she wants to talk to him after. The longer he goes without hearing from her, the more he realizes that he doesn’t think he’ll recover if she doesn’t want to see him again. He’s an addict, in dire need of his next hit. He only hopes he didn’t fuck everything up. He’ll keep all his thoughts to himself for the rest of the summer, as long as it means he gets to continue seeing her.

Rowan’s mood worsens in the afternoon. With every minute it gets closer to 8pm, he pictures Aelin getting ready in a fancy dress and doing her hair and applying makeup. For someone else. He thinks of Sam’s disgusting comments from the boat and aggressively rips a ticket in two. His frown scares a little boy making his way onto the carousel, as he skitters quickly past an incredibly grumpy Rowan.

He wonders where Sam is taking her. Probably another fancy restaurant. Dimly lit and romantic. He can’t stand the thought.

By the time the day ends, everyone has learned to avoid Rowan. Even Fenrys, whose smile can always cheer him up, gives Rowan a wide berth in the employee breakroom after he practically growls at him. Fenrys had no idea what he was asking when he asked what Rowan was up to tonight, but he knows he’ll never unleash that beast again. Rowan has no idea how he’s going to distract himself tonight. He’s all out of whiskey.

On his way home, Rowan calls his mom. It’s been a while since he’s done more than text her, and he’s relieved when she answers the phone, despite the late hour.

She can tell Rowan is in a foul mood nearly immediately.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, and Rowan groans.

“I just got no sleep last night. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, wishing he could be more cheerful for his mom, who he loves so much. She seems unfazed by his crabbiness, though.

“I was going to keep it a surprise, but there’s a present in the mail for you,” Dora says.

“What?” Why?” he asks, shocked.

“Because I saw it, and I knew you needed it. Don’t argue with me.” Her tone is resolute. “Just say thank you.”

“Thank you, ma,” he says, his mood lifting slightly.

“You’re welcome, Ro,” she says with a yawn. “Get some sleep tonight.”

She kisses loudly into the receiver, and Rowan can’t help but smile. Maybe he _can_ get through tonight after all.

When Rowan arrives home, he cracks opens his front door, unsure if Manon and Nimi are still going to be at it, but luckily Manon is alone, lounging on the couch, watching TV. He nods hello.

Manon gestures to his room. “Something came for you while you were at work. I put it in your room.”

Rowan finally smiles, excited to see what his mom sent him. But when he opens his bedroom door, he’s shocked to see not a package on his bed, but Aelin, curled up with her arms wrapped around herself, cheeks stained black with remnants of watery mascara, and turquoise eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

“Aelin?” Rowan rushes to her side, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?” He pauses, but she still doesn’t answer. “Are you okay?” he asks, though the answer is incredibly obvious.

Tears spill from her eyes onto his pillow as she shakes her head and sniffles loudly. Rowan looks her over. She looks so small, knees tucked into her chest. He takes in her dress, now wrinkled and crumpled from laying on her side. He tentatively touches her bare shoulder, and she startles beneath his touch, jolting slightly, and Rowan narrows his eyes.

“Did…” He swallows nervously. “Did he… hurt you?”

Aelin shakes her head again, and Rowan releases a shaky breath. _Thank gods for small favors._

“Aelin,” he pleads as he watches her helpelessly. “You have to tell me what happened. You’re scaring me.”

“I d-didn’t g-go,” she mumbles, so quietly that Rowan isn’t quite sure he heard her right.

She pushes herself upright, tears still dripping down her cheeks. “I g-got in-to a hug-ge f-fight with m-my mom,” she stutters between ragged breaths, clearly trying to keep her tears at bay.

Rowan wipes his thumb across her wet cheek, pushing the tears away, but they come in steady streams.

“Y-you were r-right,” she whispers through sniffs. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, centering breath. When she opens them again, blue gold eyes stare into his, and he’s nearly knocked out by the emotion he sees swirling in them. “No one can make me do anything I don’t want to. I’m done pretending.” She breathes heavily. “Sam s-sucks,” she says, her voice cracking slightly.

Rowan smiles softly at her. “I could have told you that,” he says, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“My mom did not feel the same way…” she trails off, and the flash of hurt in her eyes tells Rowan that there’s a lot more to her fight than she’s willing to admit to him. “It was the worst fight we’ve ever had.” She breathes deeply. “I can’t go back there tonight.”

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Rowan says, and he means it. It’s not entirely a selfless offer.

Rowan leans forward tentatively and kisses Aelin’s forehead. She exhales a shaky breath beneath his touch, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. Her tears return in full force as she cradles herself against him. Dark splotches mar his shirt with her running makeup. She leans back and swipes at her cheeks.

“Oh g-god, I’m getting your sh-shirt all d-dirty,” she cries, the small detail making her even more upset. “I’m s-sorry. A crying g-girl s-so isn’t wh-what you s-signed up-p for.”

“I don’t care,” Rowan says emphatically, drawing her closer, and Aelin settles against his chest again. He runs his fingers through her golden hair, starting at her scalp and running all the way down the middle of her back, repeating the movement over and over until it becomes meditative. She sniffles quietly against him, her tears running dry as she calms down.

When her breaths finally even out, Rowan kisses the top of her head and tries to lift her off his lap, but she clings to him harder.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, and she nods, unclasping her fingers and letting him go. He goes to his dresser and grabs a worn in band tee and some boxers and tosses them onto the bed. He tugs his work clothes off and grabs some sweatpants from his bottom drawer. As he stands, two delicate hands wrap around his bare torso and soft lips press between his shoulder blades.

Rowan twines his fingers with hers as he turns around to look at her. She looks exhausted. The hours of crying have taken their toll on her. Her shoulders slump forward, and her sparkling eyes lack their usual luster. But Rowan thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

She turns around in his arms and lifts her hair. He takes the hint and unzips her dress. She steps out of it and he holds up the band tee for her. She snakes her head through, and Rowan can’t help the surge of delight he feels at seeing her in his clothes. Aelin steps forward and wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close. He returns the hug so tightly he can feel their hearts beating together.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and Rowan hugs her tighter in response. He’d hold her forever if she let him. “Can I wash my face?” she asks, and Rowan nods and points her in the direction of the bathroom. Rowan finishes dressing as she cleans her face, and gets comfortable on his bed. When Aelin comes back out, she frowns at him unhappily.

  
“What?” he asks, nervous that he’s done something to upset her.

“You put a shirt on,” she complains, and Rowan can’t help but smile widely at that.

“So thirsty,” he says with a laugh, and Aelin finally smiles for the first time all evening.

“I’m actually hungry,” she says, crawling onto the bed next to him. He’s about to call her out for her blatant innuendo when she continues. “With tonight’s upset… I didn’t get to eat dinner.”

Rowan lifts his arm, and Aelin snuggles underneath it. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks. He holds out his phone for her to scroll through the limited delivery options, and Rowan smiles again at the domestic scene.

Aelin decides on Chinese food, and as they wait for it to arrive, they turn on the TV to one of Rowan’s favorite cooking competition shows.

Cuddled together on his bed, Rowan’s heart feels full. He resumes running his fingers through her hair, and Aelin sighs happily. He thinks about Elide’s advice, wondering if he should just tell Aelin what he’s feeling when she breaks the silence herself.

“You’re a really great friend, Rowan,” she says, and Rowan nods, squashing his feelings down again. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he croaks out, continuing his movements through her hair. She kisses his bandaged hand and holds it in hers. As they sit together, Rowan can’t help but think this doesn’t feel like friendship. In fact, he thinks it feels a lot like love.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost 4k words… whereas most of them have been just over 2k, so – we had a lot of things going on. And some hopefully insightful revelations. Anyway, thank you all for your patience while I struggled with this one. I hope you enjoy learning a litttle bit more about Aelin. Okay, ONWARDS!

Aelin glances at her buzzing phone and silences it. It rings with another phone call from her dad that she sends straight to voicemail. It’s been almost three weeks since her blowout fight with her mom, and her dad has tried in vain to get them to reconcile – she’s just not ready yet.

“Your dad again?” Rowan asks, coming to sit on the couch with her. Rowan has been an undeniable pillar of strength through it all. He hasn’t pushed her to talk about the fight – he’s simply let her exist in his space, giving her a wide berth to process everything. Which is ironic, because Aelin has refused to process a single thing. She’s pushed all her discontent to the back of her brain, easily compartmentalized and boxed away to be dealt with at a later date. It’s Aelin’s most impressive ability. But, regardless of “not dealing,” she knows that without Rowan’s silent support she would have fallen apart already. She can’t even begin to express her gratefulness to him. Though, she’s tried. With her mouth. And other parts of her body.

Rowan’s fingers gently dance against the bare skin of her shoulder, and she leans into him and nods. He pulls her tighter into his side and kisses her forehead, and Aelin melts into him further.

Their moment is interrupted by Manon entering the small apartment. She takes a look at the couple on the couch and attempts to reign in her scowl, but Aelin spots it anyway. She’s come to realize that Manon might not be her biggest fan.

“Oh, you’re here…” Manon says, tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter.

“Not for long,” Rowan replies, and Aelin perks up, curious. She’d assumed they were just going to hang out in his room, like usual. Rowan looks back down at Aelin. “I was thinking we could go take some photos on the beach before the sun completely sets.”

Rowan’s favorite activity makes Aelin smile. He received a brand new Nikon and zoom lens from his mother in the mail, and she’s never seen Rowan so outwardly blown away as when he pulled it from the box. He’s snapped more pictures than she can count over the last few weeks, most of them of Aelin, which she pretends to be annoyed by but secretly loves.

Aelin glances down at her outfit – comfy leggings and one of Rowan’s old college t-shirts. “I’ll go get changed.”

He squeezes her hand as she gets up from the couch, and she makes her way into Rowan’s room to sort through the pile of clothes Dorian pinched from her room at home. She throws on a dark blue maxi dress and pulls her hair from its top knot. She fluffs her hair in the mirror, feeling more camera ready.

Rowan smiles when he sees Aelin emerge from his room, and her stomach flutters at the sight of his contented face.

They wave goodbye to Manon, who replaces them on the couch with her dinner, looking relieved to have the place to herself.

“Where to?” Aelin asks as Rowan ushers her down to his truck.

“Know any good private beaches?” he asks, and she frowns. She does. It just happens to be a very short walk away from her backyard. Rowan sees her face and squeezes her hand over the center console. “We don’t have to see your family. But. I thought maybe you’d want to.”

Aelin scrolls through the many texts from her father, which she’s left unanswered.

**Fireheart, we understand you need time to cool down, but please call us when you’re ready.**

**Please, Aelin. Talk to us.**

**Your mother is sorry. She didn’t mean what she said. She was just emotional. She loves you so much. It’s upsetting her every day to know that she hurt you so badly.**

**Do you plan to stay with Elide indefinitely?**

**Are you really going to miss out on our family park day?**

**Gavin and Evie asked where you were today.**

**Dorian stopped to get your clothes. He says you’re doing well, but I’d really like to see for myself.**

**Fireheart, I understand that you’re hurt, but cutting us out isn’t going to make this better.**

**We return to Adarlan in less than a month. Let’s not have this argument ruin the rest of the summer.**

The texts feel endless. And Aelin does miss her dad. She just can’t believe her mom hasn’t tried to reach out and apologize to her. After everything she said… Aelin shakes it off, not willing to think about those hateful words and shrugs at Rowan.

“Sure.”

“Really?” he asks cautiously. Aelin nods. He’s right. Their private beach is the perfect place for a sunset photoshoot.

They park at the Playland, which is still bustling with activity, and walk down the beach until they get to the pale sand behind the Ashryver’s estate. Aelin glances up at her room balcony in the distance, half covered in twining roses, and her chest clenches uncomfortably.

Rowan surprises Aelin by wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, and she relaxes into him. He leans down and sticks his nose against her neck, and Aelin releases a shaky breath. As his chin finds a place to rest on her shoulder, Aelin’s eyes slide toward him, taking in the periphery of his tanned face and messy hair. She can’t help but smile.

_Click._

The shutter of the camera whirs as Rowan takes a picture of them.

“Test shot,” he says, straightening up and looking at the display. Aelin peers over his arm to look, too, and she gasps at the casually beautiful photo.

It’s a closeup of their faces – with a soft pastel sunset out of focus behind them. But the thing that really shocks is the way she looks at Rowan. And the way he smiles back at her. She looks so happy with him. Aelin _is_ so happy with him. She wants to print that photo out and keep it forever so she can remember this feeling long after this summer ends. Her stomach rumbles with something akin to sadness, but she pushes it far, far down. She knows her feelings about her mother aren’t the only thing she’s decided to compartmentalize – but she’s not going to unpack those either.

“I think that’s the first picture you’ve taken of us together,” she comments coolly, and Rowan lifts an eyebrow.

“I guess it is.” He looks down at the display screen again, then back at her with a confident smile. “We look pretty good together.”

“You’ll send that one to me, right?” she asks, and Rowan’s green eyes glow brightly as he assures her he will.

He leans down and kisses her forehead – his new favorite place to kiss, and a blanket of warmth and joy caresses Aelin’s face. Rowan directs her down to the water, where the small waves crash against the sand, and Aelin pulls up the long skirt of her dress, so as not to get wet. As she skips through the waves, her feet dancing in circles across the darkened sand, Rowan snaps pictures.

Aelin lets her heavy worries about her mother and their fight and the impending end of summer float away as she enjoys living in this moment. The setting sun casts shadows of deep magenta and purple and orange across the water, shimmering across the small ripples in the water. Feeling the cool sand beneath her toes, Aelin tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and grins.

She breathes in the salty sea air, especially pungent with the evening tide, but her moment of calm is disrupted by a large wave, which knocks against the back of her thighs, breaking all over her skirt, drenching her up to her waist.

Her eyes shoot open as she squeals loudly, and her peals of laughter float across the beach as Rowan continues taking pictures from the dry safety behind his camera.

Aelin runs out of the water and drops her dress skirt to the ground. It’s completely soaked.

Rowan finally lowers his camera, and she can see him biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up.” Aelin pouts as a cool breeze whips through the air, whirling around her and making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Come here,” he says with a soft smirk, and she happily obeys.

Rowan rubs his hands up and down her bare shoulders, trying fruitlessly to warm her as the sun completely descends behind the horizon. As she tries to wring the water out of her dress, Aelin shivers. Searching for more heat, she tries to pull herself closer to Rowan, but he takes a large step back.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” he laughs, and Aelin winks.

“You didn’t seem to mind that last night.”

Rowan’s cheeks redden, and Aelin cackles, loving how easily she can fluster him, just with the mention of sex.

He stares at her, and she watches as his bright eyes darken as she takes a large step toward him. He steps back again.

“Aelin, no…” he warns.

“Aelin, _yes_ ,” she decrees as she leaps into his arms, pressing her wet body against his as she attacks his face with kisses. He laughs against her lips, and she tightens her grip around his neck, pulling him as close as he can get to her.

“You’re evil,” he mumbles between kisses, and Aelin thinks he’s far too coherent if he’s able to reply so easily.

She squeezes her legs around his waist and drags her mouth to his ear. She scrapes her teeth down his strong jaw and lets her tongue snake out and taste his skin. Aelin’s efforts are rewarded with a pained groan and the feeling of Rowan’s fingers sliding through her hair and caressing the nape of her neck.

She reaches back for his lips and she hums happily as he lets her deepen their kiss. After she’s sated, she slows and pulls her face back to catch her breath. She smiles and kisses his lips softly.

Rowan smiles back, and as she looks into his eyes, she sees the depths of emotion that truly terrify her. Her box of emotions threatens to open and spill everywhere, and she can’t have that. She closes her eyes and kisses him one last time before sliding down onto the cold sand, awash in guilt. And not just for dampening his clothes with ocean water.

“Should I sneak into your room and grab you something dry to wear?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

Aelin lifts her nose as the faint traces of cigar smoke waft through the air. She would know that smell anywhere. It smells like summer nights on her back patio with her dad. Her stomach clenches.

“No,” she whispers. “Let’s just go.” She bolsters herself by plastering a cocky smile across her face and squeezing Rowan’s hand. “You can warm me up when we get home.”

“But that means you’ll be getting wet all over again,” Rowan deadpans, and Aelin’s feet stop moving in shock.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” she says, eyes wide. “Did you just make a dirty joke?”

His cheeks flame with a dark blush, and she drags him back to his truck quickly, so he can follow through on his promise. 

He does, and then some, and Aelin wakes up the next morning sore and satisfied.

She stretches out and frowns at the cold spot next to her where Rowan should be. He’s up early today. She hears voices murmuring outside in the living room and decides to get dressed and join them. She’s stepping into her shorts when she hears Manon’s sharp voice ask, “And what about our no live-in girlfriend rule?”

Aelin moves closer to the closed door and listens as shame rises within her. She knew she’d overstayed her welcome.

“It doesn’t count if she’s not my girlfriend,” Rowan quips back, and Aelin bites her lip, worrying the skin there. She can hear the anger in his biting tone, and it unnerves her.

“Oh please, you gave her apartment keys, Rowan.” Manon says with an undignified snort.

“So she doesn’t feel like a prisoner, trapped with nowhere to go!”

“Come on, dude,” Manon drawls. “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

“We’re not ducks,” Rowan insists, and Aelin almost laughs with Manon at his reply.

“You _are_ ducks, and also _liars_ ,” Manon insists. “Quack, quack, bitch.” A long beat of silence.

“I’ll talk to her,” Rowan says, his former anger turning into resignation. Aelin knows this means she needs to start thinking about where she’s going to go next. She knows Aedion and Lysandra would let her crash, but she’s not sure she’s forgiven Aedion for everything he said about Rowan, either. She definitely can’t stay at Dorian’s; his father gives her the creeps. And with Elide and Lorcan just getting together, she has no intention of being a cockblock to one of her best friends. Maybe it’s finally time to go home.

She remembers the faint smell of cigar and sighs. As if on cue, her phone buzzes with another text from her dad.

**Can I take you out to lunch? Anywhere you want. You won’t have to see your mom.**

Aelin finally responds.

**Okay.**

Her dad is ecstatic, and replies back quickly, arranging details to meet at Aelin’s favorite sandwich shop in town. A small little hole in the wall Italian deli called Rinaldi’s.

When Rowan enters his bedroom, he clutches at his hair nervously, and Aelin decides to put him out of his misery quickly. She doesn’t need him to explain why she needs to leave.

“So, I finally texted my dad back,” she says, and Rowan’s eyes widen in surprise. That is not the conversation he was expecting to have.

“Wow. Uh… what prompted that?” he asks, looking at her seriously.

She shrugs. “Maybe being at the house last night. Maybe it’s just time to get over it.” She looks around the room. “I know I’ve been here way too long.”

Rowan looks alarmed. “No, no. I told you you could stay as long as you want, and I meant it.” He pauses and swallows nervously. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here,” she admits, and her heart beats faster at the blinding grin that takes over Rowan’s face. “But, we’ll see how convincing my dad is.”

“Okay,” he says nervously. She kisses him softly and smiles.

“Now go, before you’re late to work.” She grabs him by the collar of his polo and kisses him again, and she loves the way the tips of his ears turn pink – the first tell tale signs of his arousal. She likes leaving him flustered and wanting more. Plus, it’s nearly impossible for her to keep her hands to herself, so it works out nicely.

Aelin lazes around Rowan’s room for the rest of the morning, too scared to run into Manon, who works from home. She finally sneaks out and makes her way to the restaurant. She hopes to get there with time to spare, but when she arrives, Rhoe is already waiting outside, arms crossed nervously.

Aelin resists the urge to hug him, nodding tightly instead. She leads him in and orders her favorite sandwich – prosciutto and provolone with hot peppers and vinegar on a roll. And her dad’s – hot pastrami with swiss and mustard on rye – and then finds a small table near the window.

Rhoe looks tired. If the bags under his eyes are any indication, he hasn’t been sleeping much.

“You look good.” He reaches out a hand across the table and then retracts it, nervously, unsure of what to do.

“You look terrible,” Aelin replies. Her filter must be broken this morning. Rhoe laughs, despite her comment.

“The two loves of my life are fighting,” he says quietly, and Aelin is torn between wanting to scream at him or cry. Either way, she’s about to unleash three weeks worth of feelings she’s been ignoring.

Crying wins out. Moisture stings the corners of her eyes as her eyes fill with tears. She blinks rapidly, trying to keep them in, but a rogue tear drips down her cheek. She swipes at it hastily and breathes deeply, trying to get her emotions back under control. But she can’t. And she suddenly feels very, very small.

“Is that really what mom thinks of me?” Aelin asks, her voice barely a whisper through the thick frog in her throat. “That I’ve been a waste of her time and money?”

“No, Fireheart,” he assures her, finally reaching for her hand across the table. Aelin lets him.

“I’m sorry I don’t like Sam, but he’s not nice, Daddy.” Another tear falls from her eye. And another. Aelin can’t swipe at them fast enough. “He’s so spoiled. And entitled. And…” Her voice breaks. “And I don’t want to be anything like him. But… she likes him, and she hates me.”

“Oh, baby, she doesn’t hate you,” Rhoe insists. “She _loves_ you. So, so much.” He pauses. “She just doesn’t understand why you don’t want the same life she has.” Rhoe sighs. “Believe it or not, this is a fight I’ve had with her many times before. Every time she enrolled you in etiquette classes or ballroom dance lessons or cotillion…” He sighs.

“Aedion was just so eager to fit in,” he continues. “He wanted to follow in the Ashryver footsteps. To join the business. But you have _never_ wanted that.” Rhoe laughs, recalling a memory. “I remember the first time you came home from your etiquette classes. You pulled those little white gloves off your hand and said ‘ _YUCK_ ’ so loud. You were disgusted by the fact that you had to touch some little boy’s hand.”

Aelin remembers those lessons. The girls stood in a circle on the inside, while the boys stood in a circle on the outside, facing them. They’d learned how to give a proper handshake, and curtsey and bow. She was only nine. She had hated every second of it. The dance lessons were even worse.

“They were sweaty,” Aelin chokes out, and her dad smiles sadly.

“When you started dating Chaol,” he begins again, and Aelin tenses up. She’s not sure she’s ready for the commentary on her five year long failed relationship. “Mom was so excited. Long time friends with the Havillards. In your college class. Destined for business, just like his father. But, you never quite fit with him. And I watched you try and change yourself, contort yourself to be the partner Chaol wanted. And we all saw your light dim.”

Aelin doesn’t bother swiping her tears as her father talks. They run in steady streams down her cheeks and down her chin, dripping onto the table.

“But since you’ve been free of him, you have bloomed again. You have been glowing this entire summer, and I’m sorry your mother hasn’t seen it.” He looks her straight in the eye. “But I do.”

Aelin sniffles loudly. The waiter places their sandwiches in front of them, looking terrified at the scene in front of him, so Aelin waves him off, assuring him she’s fine.

“So, you’re not going to sell me off to the highest bidder just because I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet?” she asks.

“All we want you to do with your life is be happy,” Rhoe says and takes a large bite of his sandwich. “Whatever that means to you.”

“What if what makes me happy doesn’t live up to her expectations?” Aelin fiddles with her napkin.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to that,” Rhoe says, patting Aelin’s hand comfortingly. “So, will you please come back home?” he asks, and Aelin nods.

“On one condition,” she says, and Rhoe clasps his hands, waiting patiently for her to continue. “I want to go on the staff overnight next weekend.” She clears her throat. “Elide has been talking about it for years. That it’s her favorite weekend of the summer, and I’m friends with all of them anyway, and I want to go.”

Rhoe chuckles. “ _That_ ’s the condition? Not… an apology from your mother?”

Aelin shrugs. “I only want her apology if she means it.”

“Fine,” Rhoe replies. “I’ll have your mom talk to Lorcan about adding you to the list of attendees.” He pauses. “You know there’s a ropes course, right? And hiking?” Aelin nods. “It’s just… you’re not much of an outdoor girl, honey.”

Aelin frowns. Her father’s right, she’s not much for hiking and trust activities, but she doesn’t want to lose a whole weekend with Rowan either. Not with so little of the summer left.

“I’m going.”

He holds up his hands in defeat. “Your condition is accepted.”

The pair finish their sandwiches in relative silence, which is good because Aelin can’t begin to process everything her dad just said to her. She feels somewhat reassured, but she can’t stop hearing her mother’s shrill voice repeating, “You have been a waste of my time and money!” over and over in her head. And she knows without a doubt if she really told her mom what was making her happy this summer, she’d be saying much, much worse.

Her dad is right – she has never wanted to be part of the family business, nor has she wanted to be married off and slip into high society life. And those are the only paths her mom views as viable.

Aelin can’t allow herself the privilege of thinking of other possible paths. Other paths with other people. She has no idea what that life might look like, but she knows it’s not allowed for her. If she even barely contemplates the possibility of that future, she knows she will be crushed when she can’t have it. Her chest tugs, wanting her to open that box, and see what that option holds for her, as dead ended as it might be. But she ignores it.

This is nothing more than a summer fling, she reminds herself. When she gets back to Adarlan, she’ll recalibrate and figure out what her life’s purpose is. But for the next few weeks, she’s sticking with what makes her happy. Here. In Terrasen.

She pulls out her phone and texts Rowan:

**My dad was pretty convincing. I’m headed back home tonight.**

**I’ll leave the window unlocked for you ;)**

“Everything alright?” Rhoe asks, wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

“Yup,” Aelin assures him, far too brightly. It is. At least, for now.


	19. Chapter 19

Rowan knows he’s playing with fate every time he sneaks into Aelin’s room, but he can’t stop himself. With the end of summer barreling towards him, he needs to spend as much time with her as possible. The hours he’s at work without her are pretty much torture. So, in the last few days since Aelin has moved back into her room, he can’t help but spend every night sharing her bed; it’s their problem-free oasis. Despite everything else, sex is something they are incredibly good at.

Tonight, though, Rowan has to share Aelin, and he’s feeling pretty grumpy about it. That is, until he sees her emerge onto her back patio in the smallest bikini known to man – just a few scraps of black fabric held together with gold rings. It takes all his self-control to keep his hands by his sides. He clenches his hands in fists, reminding himself he can’t run his hands all over her curves. Not until later, at least.

“That bathing suit is _indecent_ , Ace,” Elide says with a laugh, grabbing the chips and guac from Aelin’s hands.

“That’s the point, babe.” Aelin spins, revealing her mostly exposed backside, and Rowan chokes on his own sharp inhalation of air. When Aelin turns to him, her blue eyes are sparkling with mischief and Rowan has to force himself to look away, trying to cool down his warm face which is flushed with desire.

He finds Lorcan, eyes glued to the floor, his hand on his neck, uncomfortably avoiding eye contact with Aelin.

Aelin remains unfazed. She then stares Rowan down, eyes wide and innocent.

“Rowan, want to help me grab some wine from downstairs?”

Rowan doesn’t need to be asked twice. Aelin runs down the basement stairs, and Rowan bounds after her, skipping every other stair until they’re shutting themselves away in the wine cellar, just the two of them. His arms wrap around her bare waist as he pulls her into his chest, and he loves the way she melts into him. Her mouth is on his immediately, and he moans against her tongue.

“I missed you,” he mumbles against her lips, walking her further into the wine cellar.

“I missed you more.” She breathes heavily as she turns them around and backs Rowan into the small table and chairs in the middle of the cellar. Her eyes are wild as she pushes down on his shoulders, and Rowan sits in the chair, obeying the woman in front of him. Aelin’s hands run down his bare chest and down his thighs, and he groans loudly.

“Quiet,” she whispers, a devilish gleam in her eye. Rowan is constantly flustered by her, and now is no exception. He sputters out a slew of conflicted statements as Aelin sinks to her knees between his legs. He looks at the cellar’s stone floor and tugs on Aelin’s arm, trying to coax her back up. It’s not that he doesn’t want this. He absolutely does.

“Aelin, everyone is upstairs. We don’t have time to…”

“We’ll make it fast then,” she giggles.

She runs her hands up his legs, and she kisses his knee. That’s all it takes for his will to break. Fuck it. She can do whatever she wants with him.

“That won’t be a problem,” Rowan laughs, lifting his hips slightly to help her pull down his swim trunks.

His erection springs free, and her hands immediately wrap around the thick base. Rowan swears softly as she lightly kisses the tip. Her eyes burn with fire, silently assuring him that she’s exactly where she wants to be, as her mouth descends over him.

Rowan pants as Aelin teases him with her mouth, rubbing her lips and tongue up and down as her hand starts to slide slowly up and down his length.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Rowan repeats to himself, like a centering chant as Aelin increases her pressure, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks harder. He was right. This is going to be over way too fast. He’s afraid to put his hands in her hair for fear of slamming her head down too far, so he reaches for any place he can touch instead – her hand, her arm, her shoulder, her cleavage. She hums happily around him, and Rowan nearly loses it again.

He runs his finger inside the edge of her bikini top, eager to feel her bare breasts in his hand, but he’s surprised when he finds a small foil wrapper instead.

Aelin’s mouth pops off of him when he pulls the condom from her suit and dangles it between them. Her hand continues to stroke him slowly as a grin spreads across her face, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“Someone planned ahead,” he says, strained. Her thumb rubs across the head of his erection, and he bites his lip to stop himself from crying out into the echoing cellar.

“I told you I missed you.”

The devil woman uses Rowan’s grasp to help her rip the package with one hand. She rolls the condom onto him, and Rowan is left absolutely no time to process what’s happening as Aelin moves her bottoms to the side and lowers herself onto him in one quick maneuver.

Fast is the name of this game, and Rowan can’t bring himself to care one bit. Aelin is a woman on a mission as she rides him at a brutal pace, taking him in over and over until she’s writhing over him. He can feel her tiring of her fast pace, but he knows she’s close, and he’s been close since she first kissed the tip of his erection.

He digs his hands into her sides and helps her find her rhythm again. She uses her arms to leverage herself, her sharp elbows digging into his shoulders painfully. But he could care less. He wants more of her, always. He can feel his heart pounding with exertion as he bucks his hips up into her, and he gets a thrill of satisfaction as she cries out loudly, unprepared.

“Shhh,” he chuckles through his heavy breathing.

“Fuck me again,” she moans, and Rowan loses it. He thrusts up, again and again, slamming her hips hard onto his lap. Her quiet whimpers rise in pitch as she squeezes her eyes shut and convulses on top of him. She swears over and over as Rowan chases her high. As he shatters, he bites into her shoulder to prevent from screaming himself.

They collapse into each other as they finish, and Rowan practically purrs as he feels Aelin’s fingers scratching his scalp softly. Neither of them make a motion to leave, just sitting and breathing and touching each other softly. Their soft touches turn into soft kisses, and as Rowan opens his eyes to look at Aelin, he’s shocked to see her already looking at him.

“What?” he asks, pulling back, but she shakes her head. “Tell me,” he whispers against her skin. He nips at her neck again, and she laughs, pushing him away.

“I just…” she begins, and Rowan runs his hands up and down her back, now damp with a sheen of sweat. Her soft eyes disappear as a wicked smile crosses her face. “I just really needed that,” she laughs. He’s almost positive that’s not what she was going to say, but he accepts it.

“Any time.”

He kisses her again, tangling his fingers in her hair. As their kiss deepens, he hears Dorian’s upset voice – “Oh, Gods. Why? No!” he whines, upset.

Aelin gasps and climbs off Rowan’s lap as they spot Dorian behind them, hand slapped over his eyes.

“Is Rowan still _inside_ you?” he whisper-yells, his voice miserable, and Rowan can feel himself turning so red, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to look at Dorian again. He quickly pulls up his trunks and tosses the condom into the trash as Aelin fixes her bikini and pulls her hair up into a high ponytail.

“Not anymore,” she grumbles. Dorian groans again. “You’re good,” Aelin assures him, and Dorian peaks through a crack in his fingers and sighs.

“It was bad enough to hear it all those weeks ago, but to see it…” Dorian shudders, and so does Rowan. He hadn’t even thought… Oh gods, poor Dorian. “I’ll never be the same, Ace.”

Aelin frowns and grabs two bottles of wine and hands them to him. “That’s what you get for barging in.”

Dorian gapes as he snatches the wine from her. “You were barely gone for ten minutes, and I thought you could use an extra hand! How was I supposed to know that…” He pauses. “You know what? Never mind. This is on me. I should have assumed…” He mutters under his breath, “Horny monsters,” as he exits the cellar and trudges up the stairs.

Aelin grabs two more bottles and hands one to a still-blushing Rowan. She kisses his pink cheek lightly. “He’ll get over it.”

They follow Dorian up the stairs and back out to the pool, where Elide and Lorcan are already situated in the hot tub, both of them with their long dark hair up in matching top knots, Rowan notes much to his amusement. He watches jealously as Lorcan wraps his arm around Elide’s small shoulders. She looks up at him with a happy smile, proudly tucked beneath his large arm and rests her chin on his broad chest. Rowan would give anything to be able to touch Aelin so freely, so casually. But sadly, they’re at her house, and her parents could come outside at any moment. So, he’s resigned to sit next to her awkwardly, with his hands to himself.

Dorian uncorks the wine and pours some for everyone while Aelin and Rowan climb into the steaming water. Rowan sinks in and groans. The heat feels incredible against his recently active muscles. Dorian throws him a dirty glare, and Rowan begins to apologize for what he walked in on, but Dorian stops him.

“Let’s just forget it.” Rowan nods succinctly as Dorian pours him a too large glass of wine.

As he takes his first sip, Elide bursts out laughing. Her nose crinkles, and she buries her face into Lorcan’s shoulder, who seems surprised by the contact.

“What’s so funny?” Lorcan asks, poking at Elide’s arm.

“Aelin,” Elide drawls, staring at her friend with amusement. “You were gone for like fifteen minutes, max.” She pauses and touches her own neck, motioning for Aelin to do the same. “Really?”

Flustered, Aelin’s hand goes to the spot on her shoulder, mirroring Elide. Rowan realizes that is where he very recently sunk his teeth into her, and his blush returns in full force. He takes a large gulp of wine.

As Aelin moves her hand, Rowan sees the spot is already a dark red-purple ring, the fresh bruise blooming against her tanned skin. He hadn’t realized how hard he bit her.

Lorcan barks out a loud laugh as he sees it. His eyes flick to Rowan and then back to Aelin. And then back to Rowan.

“Huh.” Lorcan seems thoughtful as he assesses the situation between his coworker and his boss’s daughter. “Nice work,” Lorcan says, and Rowan can’t resist smirking.

Aelin’s blue eyes go wide with panic as she realizes what’s happened and shoves Rowan’s arm. “How bad is it?” she asks, and Lorcan replies for him.

“Pretty bad.”

“I hate you,” she seethes at Rowan, and Elide laughs again.

“Kinda looks like the opposite of that,” the tiny brunette cackles.

Aelin sticks out her tongue and takes a long sip of her wine.

Dorian grumbles as he finds a spot in the water between the two couples. “I hate being the fifth wheel. I should have invited a date tonight.”

Aelin pats his arm and smiles. “And who would that have been? Random bar girl? Random yacht girl? Or random beach girl?”

“I know their names!” Dorian insists. “One was Sorcha. One was Kaltain. And one was….” He pauses, thinking hard. “One was…”

“Exactly,” Aelin smirks.

Dorian pouts, but Rowan can tell he’s already forgiven Aelin for the awkwardness he walked in on earlier.

“Well,” Elide interrupts the best friends’ back and forth. “Now that your cat’s out of the bag, can you do me a huge favor?”

Aelin nods, coaxing her friend to continue.

“Since you’ll be at the staff overnight, I was wondering…” Lorcan coughs and hides most of his face behind his large hand as Elide continues, clearly preparing himself for embarrassment. Rowan is curious what favor Elide plans on asking if it already has Lorcan riled up. “Can we swap rooms so Lorcan and I can sleep together?”

Aelin gasps and draws her hand to her chest dramatically. “Elide?! My responsible park manager wants me to help her break the rules? You know boys and girls bunk separately!”

Elide splashes towards Aelin, who squeals. “Shut up and share the wealth. Some of us haven’t gotten laid yet this summer!”

Aelin gapes and looks between the pair of brunettes. “For real? You haven’t… yet? But it’s been like a month!”

“I know,” Elide deadpans, sliding her eyes to the man next to her, who despite being three times her size looks like he’s trying to shrink and hide behind her, sliding down into the water as far as possible.

Lorcan groans, hiding more of his face. “Ellie… they don’t need to know…”

“What?” Elide continues. Her lack of embarrassment reminds Rowan of Aelin’s brazen attitude. It’s no wonder the two girls are friends. They never mince their words. “My studio is so tiny, I only have a twin bed. And it’s not like I’m an acrobat, but have you seen him? He’s huge.” Aelin can’t help but snicker, and Rowan elbows her lightly in the ribs upon seeing Lorcan sink even further into the water, his face in flames. “And Lorcan has like two thousand roommates. Okay, it’s just three. But _someone_ refuses to bed me with them around.”

Lorcan mutters quietly. “The walls are too thin…”

Aelin holds up her hands. “I would have insisted we swapped regardless.” She looks at Lorcan. “You think I’d let you two share a room? I know how irresistible this guy is,” she says, poking Rowan’s arm. “No way. I don’t trust Lorcan as far as I can throw him.”

Lorcan blushes furiously, and Rowan realizes for the first time that the manager he thought was quiet and grumpy has really just been incredibly shy this whole time.

“Nor should you.” Lorcan winks at Rowan through his blush, and Rowan insists that everyone needs more wine if they’re all going to start flirting with each other. 

“MAEVE!” Dorian screeches out of nowhere, and the group all turns to him with confused looks on their faces. He points to Aelin. “That was the name of random beach girl. Maeve.” He looks so proud of himself, his chest puffed out and his blue eyes wide with vindication, and the hot tub devolves into laughter.

The five of them lounge and drink and banter until their fingers start to become pruney.

Amidst their laughter, the back door slides open and Rhoe and Evalin come out to say goodnight to everyone. Aelin turns and places her hand on her shoulder, expertly covering her bruise and smiles innocently.

“We’ll wrap up soon,” Aelin says to her dad.

“Not necessary,” Rhoe says, waving her off. “Stay as late as you want. We’re more than happy to have your friends here.”

Rowan notices that Evalin doesn’t say a word. In fact, since Aelin’s returned to her house, he’s not even sure she’s spoken with her mom at all. He’s been too nervous to ask about the fight and subsequent makeup, and Aelin hasn’t offered him any information. He doesn’t want to press.

Lorcan looks at the time and says they should probably get going anyway. Work waits for no man. Or woman, he adds, looking adoringly at Elide. Elide scrunches her nose and kisses his cheek, and Aelin snorts into her wine. But the open affection shared between the pair once again makes Rowan burn with envy. He longs to even put his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, but instead, he sits stiffly beside her, cautiously keeping his free arm attached to his side.

As Aelin’s parents head into the house, Aelin leans over and whispers into Rowan’s ear. “You’re staying, right?”

Rowan nods and startles slightly as Aelin slides her hand over his thigh.

“Again?” Dorian complains. “At least wait until we’re gone…”

Dorian’s words spur Aelin to get everyone out of the house as quickly as possible. As soon as everyone hoses off in the outdoor shower and changes back into their clothes, Aelin is slamming the door and saying goodnight to everyone loudly.

She and Rowan head upstairs quietly and shut the door behind them, immediately falling onto her bed, limbs wrapped around each other.

“Did I mention I missed you today?” Aelin breathes against his mouth, and Rowan chuckles.

“A few times, yeah.” He smiles against her lips, happy to have her all to himself again, when there’s a loud knock on the door.

“Aelin?” Evalin’s voice calls through the door. “Can I come in?”

Rowan’s never seen Aelin’s eyes widen so much, it would nearly be comical if his heart weren’t pounding out of his chest. They freeze immediately, before scrambling into action.

“One second!” she squeaks out as Rowan jumps off the bed, wondering where the hell he’s supposed to go. Under the bed is far too conspicuous, and Aelin always leaves her bathroom door open.

“Closet!” she mouths as she fixes her clothes.

Rowan rushes to the walk in closet and shuts himself inside as fast as he can. As he takes his spot on the floor, under Aelin’s hanging garments, he hears Aelin call for her mother to enter.

Rowan can’t see anything, but he can hear everything all too well. He feels somewhat guilty for listening in on what is sure to be a private conversation, but it’s not like he can go anywhere else. And Aelin _does_ know he’s here.

“What’s up?” Aelin asks, and there’s a long silence as Evalin thinks of her reply.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Evalin says quietly.

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

More silence.

“Is that all?”

Rowan hears a long sigh, and he’s not sure who it comes from. It could be either woman, to be honest.

“No. I…” Evalin starts again. “I know you’ve been avoiding me since you came back to the house, and that’s fine. But I wanted to apologize anyway.” She clears her throat. “You know I didn’t mean what I said.”

“No, I didn’t know that,” Aelin says, her voice as icy as Rowan’s ever heard it.

“Aelin,” her mom pleads. “Of course I didn’t mean it. I was just confused. And you know canceling on a date is incredibly rude, and it reflects back on this family. I had to apologize to The Cortlands, who were also very confused. We just thought you two were such a good match.”

“Mom,” Aelin breathes, exasperated. “Sam and I _weren’t_ a good match. He was constantly disrespecting my personal boundaries. I didn’t want to go out with him, but he asked me out in front of you so I’d _have_ to say yes. He’s manipulative and shitty, and I don’t want to be with anyone like him. Sorry you had to quit picking out our china.” She pauses and then continues again. “But I don’t need your help getting a date.”

“I’m sorry,” Evalin says finally, quietly. “I didn’t see any of that.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have, would you?” Aelin laughs humorlessly. “I don’t want to talk about Sam anymore. He’s not even important.”

Another long silence.

“We just want you to be happy.”

“Dad tell you to say that?”

Rowan wishes he could see what’s going on as another silence fills the room.

“You’re very good at putting on a smile, Fireheart,” Evalin finally says. “We just want you to mean it.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t taught me that appearances mean everything I would fake it less,” Aelin snips.

Rowan’s heart hurts as he hears Aelin’s defense. He knows it’s true. In the weeks she spent with him, she only broke down that first night. The rest of the time, she plastered a smile across her face. It was as if she thought if she put that smile there long enough, she’d finally forget she was sad. Though he supposes he can’t fault her for that. He’s been known to do the exact same thing. He’s like a wounded animal, hiding its injuries from his owner, so as not to worry them.

“Aelin,” her mom sighs, but Aelin shuts it down, apparently finished with the conversation.

“I’m tired. Thank you for your apology. I’ll see you in the morning.” She dismisses her effectively, and Evalin wishes her a goodnight softly.

The door closes again, but Rowan is afraid to move, as if Evalin will come back in at any second. The closet door wrenches open, and Rowan is momentarily blinded by the bright lights of Aelin’s room. He squints and sees Aelin, standing in front of him, with a worried frown on her face.

He stands quickly and wraps his arms around her. “You okay?” he asks, and she nods silently, but he knows she’s anything but.

Aelin undresses methodically and gets ready for bed, and Rowan stands, unsure of what to do. She definitely doesn’t seem to be in the mood for any amorous activities anymore, and Rowan hasn’t ever been in her room for anything else.

“We don’t have to, uh…” Rowan stumbles his words, like usual. “I mean, I can go home.”

“No,” Aelin says quietly and looks up at him with those entrancing blue-gold eyes. She clutches onto the hem of his shirt with her fists, keeping him close. She looks nervous as she fiddles with the fabric between her fingers. “Would you still stay, even if all we do is sleep?”

“Of course,” he answers, and Aelin smiles softly. He has no idea why she was so nervous to ask him. He’d do anything she asked of him.

Rowan strips down to his boxer briefs as Aelin throws on a t-shirt that he recognizes as his. “Hey, I was wondering where that went…”

Aelin tugs at it. “You told me it shrunk in the dryer and is too short for you now.”

Rowan smiles as Aelin climbs under the covers with him. “I did say that.”

She flicks the lights off and rolls back to face him. “It’s so soft.” She pauses. “I’m keeping it.” He scoots closer to her and rests his hand on her thigh. “I’m still mad at you,” she says, and Rowan rears his head back, wondering what the hell he could have possibly done wrong. She laughs.

“I can’t believe you bruised my neck, you heathen.” She shoves at his chest, and it rumbles softly with his own laughter. “I’m going to have to curl my hair tomorrow, just so when I tell everyone it’s a curling iron burn they _have_ to believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says through his chuckling. He kisses the tip of her nose, and he feels it scrunch beneath his lips.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, referring to her conversation with her mom, and Aelin shakes her head.

“I want to hear about _your_ mom,” she whispers.

“What about her?”

“Everything,” she says, and so Rowan does. He tells her about Sunday baking days and learning her favorite recipes. He tells her about how she sewed every single one of his Halloween costumes. How she never missed a cross country race. He tells her about how he had no choice but to leave the Army when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. And that he was happy to help her through her extensive rehab, because he’d do anything for the woman who raised him single-handedly.

“I love her,” Aelin murmurs, half asleep.

Rowan brushes her hair out of her face as she succumbs to sleep. “She’d love you,” he whispers, sadness suddenly weighing heavily on his chest. Aelin hums lightly in reply.

 _I love you_.

He hears it so loudly in his own head, he almost startles himself awake. He knows he can’t say anything. But for a selfish second, he lets himself feel it.

The soft glow of the moon highlights the tip of Aelin’s nose as it filters through her windows, and her eyelashes flutter against the tops of her cheeks as she starts to dream. She breathes slowly, her lips slightly parted, and Rowan hasn’t seen her look so completely at ease as long as he’s known her. He wishes he had his camera. He’d like to capture this moment forever. Instead, he stares at her, etching every last detail of the image into his brain, until he finally gives into exhaustion and falls asleep, too.


	20. Chapter 20

**Ro** wan feels like he’s barely slept when Aelin’s alarm goes off. He grumbles and pulls her closer, so he can bury his face into her shoulder, away from the thick rays of sunshine pouring through her window. “No…” he groans.

“Yes,” Aelin laughs as she turns over to face him. Her finger traces over his lips, and he kisses it softly. Her eyes lock with his, and he can’t help the warmth that blooms in his chest at her staring.

“What?” he asks, kissing her finger again. Her eyes flit across his face, observing him closely.

“You’re pretty in the morning,” she says, and Rowan narrows his eyes at her.

“Pretty?” he asks, incredulous. She nods and giggles quietly as Rowan climbs on top of her, pinning her hands beside her head on the mattress. “I’ll show you pretty…” he growls. His lips dive onto her neck, and he can feel her laughter against his chest.

They both hear her door open and slam at the same time. They freeze, their heads turning in the direction of the noise, praying against all odds that it isn’t one of Aelin’s parents.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

Dorian stands with his back pressed against Aelin’s door, his hand covering his face again. Rowan sighs a breath of relief and rolls off the bed. He can’t believe how close that came to being a nightmare. They really need to be more careful. He grabs his work uniform, which is crumpled on the floor and pulls his pants on quickly.

“Dor?” Aelin asks from under her covers. “Why are you in my room?”

“I volunteered to wake you up,” he says, eyes still closed. “I had a feeling. Your entire family is downstairs. It’s Saturday, remember?”

“Shit,” Aelin mumbles as she rushes to her closet and throws on shorts and a tank top.

Rowan looks at the clock. Thirty minutes until works starts. And he has no idea how he’s going to escape this house with Aelin’s entire family downstairs. It’s not like he can climb out her window – he’d be spotted in a second.

Dorian finally cracks his eyes open and sees that everyone is fully dressed and relaxes slightly. He nods to Rowan, who nods back uncomfortably.

As they exchange hellos, Aelin heads straight into her bathroom and plugs in her curling iron. Rowan stands in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. He shoves his hands into his pockets and watches as Aelin starts wrapping her hair around the hot metal rod. She examines her bruise in the mirror and dabs some makeup over it with her free hand.

“Dor?” Aelin calls from the bathroom. “Can you tell my family that I am curling my hair, but I will meet them at the park shortly?” She pokes her head out of the bathroom. “Just, get them out of the house quickly. Please,” she implores him with wide eyes, and Dorian salutes her and takes off.

By the time Aelin’s hair is curled, and her family has officially left the premises, Rowan has about five minutes to make it to work. He kisses Aelin and makes a mad dash for the park.

“See you there,” Aelin calls out after him as he takes off into a quick sprint. His cross-country skills are put to the test as his feet sink through the sand with every step. By the time he reaches the park entrance, he’s only one minute late. He’s impressed with himself.

Breathing hard, he slows to a brisk walk, making his way through the throngs of crowds lined up to get in.

Rowan pauses, his brain finally catching up to him, and looks around. The park is _packed_. Shockingly crowded.

The line of cars to enter the park is so long, it extends past the parking lot and onto the street, and at the front gate, a hefty crowd is gathered, waiting to get in.

“What the fuck?” Rowan mumbles to himself.

Inside the park, a very stressed out Lorcan mans the admissions booth with Fenrys. “Rowan!” he calls out. “You’re here! Come help us.”

Rowan apologizes for being late, but Lorcan just attributes it to the long line of cars and waves Rowan off. He’s just grateful for the help.

As Rowan starts handing out tickets and wristbands, he finally asks Lorcan what the hell is going on. Apparently, the park was featured on some big reality show called _Hometown Hotspots_ earlier in the week, and the park is seeing the after effects. Lorcan has never been more stressed. He’s not exactly a people person, and these people are impatient, entitled, and anxious to get into the park. Rowan feels for him.

The overflow of people is never ending, and Rowan ends up staying at admissions until well into the afternoon. He barely has time to even think about missing Aelin, being kept so busy. Until, finally, he checks his phone during his lunch break and sees he has a slew of texts from her.

**WHOA, what’s up with these crowds???**

**You were so busy this morning, you didn’t even see me come in! Luckily, Fenrys was far more cordial ;)**

Rowan glares at Fenrys, who eats his lunch across the table from him. He can’t believe he didn’t’ even see Aelin enter the park.

**Lys wants me to tell you that she knows this is not a curler burn. *facepalm***

**Gavin heard your name and got excited, and now my family is insisting you join us for dinner.**

**You’re going to go down in history as being Gavin’s favorite person ever, just for buying him cotton candy that ONE TIME.**

Rowan can’t help but smile at this phone screen, despite how tired he already is. He texts back quickly.

**I’ll be there.**

At the last second, he adds a red heart emoji and sends it. He’s never been an emoji person before, mostly using texting for utilitarian purposes only. But with Aelin, he can’t help himself. It’s silly, he knows. But the red heart sitting in his texts is his silent way of opening up more. Of silently insinuating the three words he’s tried to push to the back of his head and not let overtake his thoughts. He smiles when Aelin immediately returns his text with three kissing face emojis.

He must be smiling like a mad man, because Lorcan chuckles loudly as he takes a seat next to Rowan and asks, “How’s your girlfriend?”

Rowan’s smile disappears as Fenrys perks up from across the table. “You have a girlfriend?”

“Uhh… no… not really…” Rowan fumbles his words.

Lorcan senses his mistake and flashes Rowan and apologetic glance.

But Fenrys is undeterred. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Rowan,” Fenrys pouts, sounding all of his young age. “So… who is she? Townie? Someone who works here? Rich summer home crowd?”

“Someone way out of your league, kiddo,” Lorcan says, slapping his large hand onto Fenrys’s shoulder. His voice is gruff, but Rowan sees the hears the affection in his tone. He weirdly feels like he’s turned a corner with Lorcan. Maybe they could even be friends.

“It’s nothing,” Rowan assures Fenrys, who still looks on with hopeful eyes, begging for scraps of information. “It’s super low key, so we haven’t gone public, or whatever.”

“Then how come Lorcan knew?” His whining would be almost comical if Rowan didn’t want to exit the conversation so badly.

Luckily, Lorcan saves him. “Caught them in the break room the other night.” He pauses. “Which, no one should be doing, by the way.”

“What should we not be doing?” Elide asks, entering with a giant funnel cake in her hands. She’s followed by Connall and Vaughan and Gavriel, which means that Rowan’s lunch break is up. He groans. He’s not ready to deal with those crowds again. And if the group’s faces are any indication, nothing has slowed in the minutes he took off to eat. Elide looks exhausted.

“Making out in the break room,” Rowan laughs.

“Oh please,” Elide scoffs. “What do you think Lorcan and I do every night when you guys leave?” Elide wiggles her eyebrows at Lorcan, who turns bright red. His hands tug at his long hair, unsure what to do with himself. Rowan can tell he wants to be mad at Elide, but he thinks Lorcan is physically incapable of actually getting angry with her.

“Ellie,” he whines, but she just giggles as she stuffs a piece of funnel cake into her mouth. Her lips become coated in powdered sugar, and she purses her lips and motions to Lorcan.

“Come get some sugar.” She winks, and Lorcan looks conflicted as he looks at her lips and everyone else in the room. Ultimately, Elide’s lips win, and Lorcan leans down and gives her a quick kiss as everyone else in the room whoops. His entire body is flushed as he narrows his eyes at the bystanders.

“Not a word,” he warns.

Fenrys sighs loudly. “Man, did everyone get a girlfriend this summer but me?” he asks. Connall and Vaughan sit down next to him, and as the conversation turns to summer gossip, Rowan extracts himself and heads to the kiddie section of the park, where he’ll be on rotation all afternoon.

The rest of the day is even more miserable than the first half. Children are crying, upset with waiting for hours and missing their nap times; Rowan sympathizes – he’d love a nap, too. The crowds become angrier the longer they have to wait, and Rowan realizes the park is not equipped for this many people. They have no idea how to manage the crowds. And he almost witnesses a full on riot when one of the food stands runs out of ice cream bars. It’s a mess.

Somehow, he manages to keep his cool with the angry patrons, and he practically runs back to the Ashryvers’ as soon as the day is finished.

The entire family, plus Dorian, sits outside on their back patio as Emrys brings out platters of food, which smell absolutely delicious. Fleetfoot waits happily under the table, tail wagging, ready for scraps to fall. Rowan’s stomach rumbles as he approaches, seeing the spread of salads, biscuits and corn on the cobb.

“Wine?” Aelin offers him a large glass, and Rowan accepts it happily.

Gavin runs straight for his legs and wraps his tiny arms around them. He pats the top of the small boy’s head, unable to interact much more than that in his current state of exhaustion.

“Oh, sweetie, I can get you a beer, if you prefer,” Evalin says, but Rowan shakes his head and takes a large sip of the cold wine. “You look utterly exhausted.” She holds out a chair, and Rowan slinks into it without a second thought.

“The park was…” Rowan begins, but he stops himself short, not wanting to insult his bosses. Aelin sees it in his face.

“A nightmare?” Rhoe laughs. “We know.” He fills his own glass again. “We left early in the afternoon. We were not ready for those crowds.”

Evalin sighs. “The board is meeting about it tomorrow. We need to come up with some kind of solution other than hiring people to help with the parking lot. Luckily, this summer is almost over. But if this is how it is _next_ summer… We need to get organized.”

Rowan thought the same thing throughout the day, but he’s unsure if he should bring up his suggestion. He knows his opinion likely holds no weight with this family, despite how outwardly friendly they are to him.

“Have you ever been to Disneyland?” Rowan asks, deciding to speak up after all.

“The competition?” Evalin raises an eyebrow, and Rowan becomes slightly self-conscious. He takes another sip of his wine. But Evalin cracks a smile, clearly teasing him, and Rowan relaxes. “I’m kidding. Yes, we’ve been there. But not since Aelin was nearly a baby.” Evalin smiles wider, staring at her daughter. “All Aelin wanted to do was to meet Mickey. It’s all she talked about the entire trip. We waited for over two hours to meet him, and when we got to the front, she screamed bloody murder. Just cried and cried…”

Aedion laughs loudly. “Oh my god, I remember that. She was _terrified_ of him.”

Aelin frowns. “Okay, when you’re a toddler and you love Mickey, you expect him to be the size of a mouse, not a GIANT.” She shudders. “I still don’t like the characters.”

Rowan laughs and rubs her arm reflexively. He only realizes what he’s done when Dorian catches his eye. He pulls his hand away quickly, and prays no one noticed. Aelin seems unfazed as she sips more of her wine.

“A-anyway,” Rowan continues, “I know Disney is very different from Playland, but… the one thing they’re great at is crowd control.”

Rhoe and Evalin nod in agreement, so Rowan continues.

“Besides hiring people to direct car traffic and foot traffic, which, is definitely an important part of it – I think they really got a handle on things when they created their app,” he explains. “It’s an interactive map of the park where you can check ride wait times, see the daily schedule, preorder food, make reservations…” Rowan looks around the table and notices all eyes are on him, listening with rapt attention. “Playland isn’t big enough to need all of that, but it couldn’t hurt to have some of it. Everyone loves an app.”

“That’s not a terrible idea.” Evalin looks to Rhoe.

Lysandra turns toward Rowan and narrows her eyes. “Rowan, weren’t you telling us you used to work as a programmer for a start up?” she asks, and Rowan nods uncomfortably. He doesn’t like this many eyes on him. Especially when he’s talking about himself.

“You did?” Rhoe asks.

“Yeah. Not for very long,” Rowan admits. “The start up went under pretty quickly. Bad investors.” He pauses, then continues. “But I did computer engineering for the Army before then. I could make you a mock up, if you wanted?”

“That is very sweet to offer,” Evalin says, her voice sounding too saccharine to Rowan’s ears. “But I don’t think we’re anywhere near that step yet.”

Rowan smiles, but he can’t help but feel like he’s been blown off. He should have known they only see him as park staff. He does appreciate Lysandra taking him seriously, though.

The conversation dies down as Emrys brings out a large plate of brightly colored lobsters. Rowan can count the amount of times he’s had lobster on one hand. It’s a delicious luxury, one that Rowan absolutely loves, but is completely inexperienced with. He watches Aelin pull the claws with a slight twist away from the body and crack the shell, pulling the meat out. He mimics her actions, but somehow ends up crushing the shell into multiple pieces with his clumsy fingers.

As Aelin dips her piece into butter and drops it into her mouth, she sees Rowan’s struggle and leans over to help.

“Here,” she whispers as she takes her knife and cracks open the knuckles for him. He feels like a child. In fact, he notices Lysandra doing the same thing for Gavin and Evie.

“I can do it,” he protests, but Aelin has already finished cracking it for him. He sighs as she moves to twist off the tail, hoping his cheeks aren’t red with the embarrassment he feels.

His embarrassment fades quickly, though, when he sees Evalin reaching over to do the same thing to Rhoe’s lobster. Rowan looks at Aelin, who doesn’t seem to realize she’s completely mirroring her parents’ behavior and smiles behind the rim of his wine glass, which has been magically refilled.

Dinner is just as delicious as Rowan hoped it’d be, and by the end of the night he’s feeling sated and sleepy and buzzed on wine. Evalin tells him he should spend the night, since he’s not safe to drive yet, but Rowan can’t actually justify wearing his gross uniform again tomorrow. And as loathe as he is to spend a night away from Aelin, he knows he needs to go home.

“I can stay for another hour or so and sober up and then head home,” Rowan says, but his large yawn gives away his current state of fatigue.

“We can give you a ride if you want?” Lysandra offers, and Aedion readily agrees, but Rowan isn’t sure how he’d get to work the next morning without his truck.

“Fireheart, are you sober?” Rhoe asks, and Aelin nods. Rowan did notice she stopped drinking after her first glass of wine. He should have, too, but she just kept refilling it. It barely takes Rowan a second to realize that Aelin was trying to get him drunk, trying to get him to stay over. He shakes his head, sorry for her failed efforts.

“Why don’t you drive Rowan home, and then you can take an Uber back home?”

Aelin agrees, and says she’ll be quiet coming back in, in case her parents are asleep. After a round of goodbyes, Aelin and Rowan walk back to his truck where it’s still in the far corner of the Playland parking lot.

He tosses her the keys and watches as she moves her hand over the gears. As they drive, Rowan realizes he’s never seen Aelin behind the wheel before, and there’s something incredibly sexy about watching her maneuver his giant truck. By the time they reach Rowan’s street, Rowan can’t wait any longer. As soon as Aelin parks, he pulls her over to his lap and kisses her.

She squeals as he plants sloppy kisses on her face. Their kisses become more heated as it continues, so much that the windows start to steam up. His hands roam across her back and slide up her tank top, relishing in her bare skin. He just wants her all the time. Always.

Aelin pulls away and smiles. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” Rowan admits through another yawn. “That’s why if you come up, you’re going to have to do all the work.”

Aelin snorts, making Rowan laugh. It’s the cutest thing in the world. When she snorts. No other girl could make snorting cute, but Aelin somehow manages to.

“This is what you get for getting me drunk,” he says, letting her know he was well aware of her plan.

Aelin snickers as she opens the door and slides off his lap. She pulls on his arms, and Rowan stumbles out of the cab. And when they get upstairs, Aelin shows Rowan she’s more than happy to do all the work, and then some.

Rowan’s drunk heart feels like it’s going to explode as she moves on top of him, and he has to physically stop himself from saying the three words he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about all day. _I love you_ , he thinks to himself. _I never want you to leave. I want to be with you forever._

His resistance snaps. He’s too tired, too ready to put his entire heart into this thing. The lid he’s tried so carefully to keep on his feelings, explodes. The dam bursts, crumbling and cracking under the weight of his emotions, and he lets them tumble out, spilling everywhere, coating his skin where she touches him. He is lost to her, and he’s ready to burn.


	21. Chapter 21

Rowan feels nauseous, and it’s not just because of the vibrations of the coach bus they’ve chartered to take them deep into the Seaghorn mountains for the weekend. Or the swaying of the tall vehicle as it makes its way through the small winding roads as they climb into higher altitudes. No. There’s a general anxiety, a real nervousness that’s settled over him in the last week. Each day that ticks down renders him more stressed. The summer is almost at an end.

This weekend marks the beginning of the final week of summer – of his job at Playland and Aelin’s summer vacation – and he still hasn’t thought about what happens next yet. He’s not ready.

Luckily, the crowds at Playland have only become worse with each passing day, so he’s barely had time to think about it. But now, with a four-hour bus ride, climbing up into the mountains, he has no more excuses. He needs to think about what he’s going to say to her. He can’t let her go back to Adarlan without saying anything. He just can’t. And if her behavior has been any indication, he’s hoping his thoughts are going to be well-received.

He looks over at the girl sitting across the aisle from him. Aelin’s golden hair falls over her shoulder, blocking her face from him, as she whispers things into Elide’s ear that color her pale cheeks pink. Rowan can only imagine what’s being said between them.

On Rowan’s other side, a different blonde head rests on his shoulder. Fenrys’s eyes closed about five minutes into their journey, and he hasn’t stirred since. Rowan hasn’t had the heart to move him; it’s been a long week, and it’s going to be a long weekend.

The excited chatter on the bus is enough to inform Rowan of how much this weekend is anticipated by the staff. He’s unsurprised to learn the overnight is less of a camp out and more a mountain resort vacation. The Ashryvers spare no expense when it comes to thanking their employees – treating them to a bonding weekend in a luxury lodge with a lakefront view. He’s heard about the upscale catered meals, the extravagant views, the midnight bonfire, all followed by a day hiking to the peak of Mount Terrasen, and going through a team building ropes course to make their way back down.

Rowan is ecstatic; he’s going to be with Aelin for forty-eight uninterrupted hours, and he doesn’t plan on wasting a single second.

He reaches across the aisle and runs his finger up Aelin’s arm. She turns to him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wild.

“You didn’t hear that, did you?” she breathes heavily, and Rowan stares past her at a flustered Elide.

“…no…” he answers. “Should I be concerned?”

Aelin smirks. “Absolutely.” Rowan furrows his brow in silent question. “I was just… giving Elide some last-minute tips.” She bites her lip. “About some new things. I learned I enjoyed. Physically. This summer.”

Rowan’s ears burn as he thinks about what Aelin could have possibly said, and he feels the need to apologize to the tiny brunette. “Aelin…” His voice is a low whisper.

Elide fans herself and laughs. “Please, it’s all old news. Remember I saw the hand-shaped bruises on your hips?” she asks Aelin, and Rowan’s eyes practically bug out of his head.

“Can’t you two talk about anything else?” he practically begs. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy that Aelin is clearly _pleased_ by the things they do together in bed. He loves nothing more than bringing her to that precipice over and over again, honestly. But… he’s stressed enough as it is. He doesn’t need Elide talking about his sexual prowess on top of everything else.

Aelin pats his arm and smiles. “Sure. Like what?”

“Like, what happens at Playland today?” Rowan finally asks, curious as to how the place is able to shut down for a full weekend.

“Oh. They rent it out for weddings.” Aelin explains that the overnight was actually born out of guilt for shutting down the park the last weekend of summer, and not wanting to deprive their staff of any pay.

Elide then waxes poetic about her favorite parts of the overnight. She gives a wistful sigh as she remembers the summer they all went skinny dipping in the middle of the night.

“That was the first time she ever saw Lorcan’s butt,” Aelin says, her eyes crinkling with her wide smile, and Rowan brings his hand to his face to cover his pained smile.

“I don’t need to hear about Lorcan’s butt.”

“Why not, Whitethorn?” Lorcan quips as he walks down the aisle between their seats. “It’s a good butt.” He winks at Elide, who leans over Aelin to watch his backside as he saunters to the front of the bus.

Rowan looks out the window as he barks out a loud laugh, spotting the sign that tells him they’ve arrived at the resort. His stomach grumbles, right on cue. It’s been a long day of sitting, and he’s ready to enjoy the catered meal he’s been promised. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

Instead of the bus continuing up the narrow driveway, it pauses at the entrance, idling.

Rowan tries to move to get a better look, and a loud snore escapes Fenrys’s mouth, startling him awake.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, groggy. Rowan is about to tell him he missed the entire ride when Lorcan whistles to get everyone’s attention.

“Listen up!” Lorcan shouts, and the bus quiets down appropriately. “I’ve just been informed that we aren’t going to be able to make it up to the lodge.”

Upset murmurs start to rise in pitch as Lorcan explains that they experienced heavy rainfall this morning, and that the driveway has been completely blocked by a mudslide. Rocks, felled trees and an electric line need to be cleared before the bus can safely make it to its destination.

“How long’s that going to take?” Gavriel calls from the back of the bus.

Lorcan tugs at his ponytail and sighs. “We’re going to need to come back tomorrow.”

A chorus of angered “No!” and “What?!” and “Why???” can be heard throughout the bus, and Rowan’s stomach sinks. He can’t believe they drove four hours, just to drive four hours back to Terrasen. What a nightmare.

“We’re not going to drive all the way back home, are we?” Connall asks, voicing Rowan’s internal conflict. Lorcan holds up a finger, asking everyone to wait as he listens to someone on the other end of a call.

Lorcan hangs up finally and pulls at his hair nervously. He sighs, clearly upset with the situation himself, but he’s trying to keep it together for everyone else. Rowan doesn’t envy his position.

“There’s a motel about forty-five minutes back down the mountain, and a local diner we can have dinner at.” The chorus of grumbles rises again, and Lorcan silences them with a loud whistle. “I know it’s not what you all imagined for this weekend, but it’s better than nothing, right? And the path should be cleared by morning, so tomorrow will be just as good as you remembered.”

Everyone nods sadly, and Lorcan begins to read room assignments as the bus makes a large turn and heads back down, away from the luxury vacation of their dreams as the sun begins to set.

The bus groans as it comes to a stop in front of the faded sign of the motel. This place has definitely seen better days. In fact, Rowan thinks it looks like the scene of several thousand gruesome crimes. He’d imagined making love to Aelin in a plush bed with down comforters or in a brightly lit tiled shower with marble counters and a jacuzzi tub, not… this.

He pushes the door open to room number 17 and feels his chest tighten uncomfortably. His appetite disappears as he takes in the queen-sized bed, which sits at the center of the room, covered in a maroon floral comforter, contrasting with the dark teak walls. A sad brown lamp sits on a rickety nightstand, and as Rowan takes his first step across the threshold, the dark green carpet crunches beneath his shoe. It makes him cringe.

He drops his bag down on the bed and immediately closes the thick curtains. He ignores a spotty dark stain on the hem, and sighs deeply. The musty smell of decaying wood and old cigarette smoke invades his senses, giving him an immediate headache.

Aelin drops her bag behind him and kisses his shoulder. “I’m so glad neither of us have a black light with us,” she says with a laugh.

“This is so not funny,” Rowan whines, but he’s momentarily appeased when Aelin wraps her arms around his stomach and tugs him closer, spinning him in her arms, so he’s looking down into her amused blue-gold eyes.

“It’s kind of funny,” she says with a small smile, and he can’t resist leaning down and kissing her curled lips. He intends for the kiss to be soft and sweet, but Aelin deepens the kiss immediately, knotting her hands in his hair and twining her tongue with his. She pulls away, panting, and smiles again as she pats his chest lightly. “Now, let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“Me too,” he groans, meaning something incredibly different. How she’s able to get him so worked up over one little kiss, he’ll never ever know. But he wants to strip her down and be inside her immediately.

Aelin understands and gives him a saucy wink, tossing a “Later” over her shoulder as she makes her way out of the room. She opens the door and stumbles into someone.

Fenrys gapes as Rowan appears behind Aelin, his steadying hand placed on her lower back. Fenrys begins apologizing profusely, but then snaps his mouth shut. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, his dark eyes flicking between Aelin and Rowan at a rapid-fire pace. “You… Uh… Cool…”

Aelin holds up her index finger to her lips and whispers a long conspiratorial, “Shhh.”

Fenrys nods, his flicking eyes never stopping moving between the pair, and zips his lips with his own finger.

Aelin links her arm with Fenrys’s and walks to the front of the hotel where the large group is heading over to the diner down the street. Rowan enjoys watching her in front of him. Her hips swaying with the promise of “later.”

The diner is something out of _Twin Peaks_ , with lacquered vinyl booths and waitresses in dark green uniforms and delicious smelling pie and burnt coffee.

Rowan slides in, and Fenrys makes room for Aelin to squeeze between them. Elide and Lorcan sit across from them, and Rowan notices how deflated they look. He knows for _sure_ this is not what they envisioned for their own weekend, and he feels oddly comforted that he’s not alone in his disappointment.

Aelin orders coffee and a large stack of pancakes with extra crispy bacon, and Rowan shakes his head as she digs into her plate.

“How do you look like you and eat like _that_ ,” he asks as he shoves part of his veggie omelet into his mouth.

“I find creative ways to burn off the calories,” Aelin quips, turning both Rowan and Fenrys’s faces a dark shade of red. Aelin delights in their discomfort, her innuendo becoming progressively more blatant with each bite of her food, until Gavriel stops by their table to ask if they want any alcohol.

He spotted a nearby gas station, and is going to create his own party – shitty circumstances be damned. They might not have their fancy catered dinner or midnight bonfire, but the motel has a pool and a hot tub, and they have all night to celebrate. Fenrys jumps at the occasion to party and begins rounding people up.

“Should we join the pool party?” Rowan asks as they begin their walk back to the motel, but Aelin shakes her head.

“We don’t have to interact with anyone else for ten whole hours,” she says, leaning into his side. “And I want to make the most of it.” Her eyes twinkle with devious promises, and Rowan increases his pace, anxious to get her alone as quickly as possible.

Aelin heads to the bed as soon as they’re behind closed doors. She strips the dirty comforter off the bed and tosses it into the corner of the room. She examines the thin pink blanket below it and pulls it off as well, throwing it on top of the comforter, leaving just the starched white sheets on the thin mattress.

“Better,” she states. And as if to mock them, loud cheering comes from the pool, voices of their friends sporadically piping up to yell obscenities as they crash through the water.

“Music?” Rowan suggests, and Aelin nods. Rowan scrolls through his phone, pulling up a playlist he’s covertly named – AA. All songs that remind him of Aelin Ashryver. All sappy love songs that he needed to put in one pathetic place. The music quickly drowns out the outdoor noise, leaving them in a magical world, just the two of them.

Aelin tosses him a shy smile as Leon Bridge’s “Coming Home” starts playing. She walks to Rowan slowly, and the look in her eyes renders him speechless. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he grins as she begins swaying her hips back and forth, dancing to the slow beat of the song.

_Baby baby baby. I’m coming home to your tender sweet loving._

_You’re my one and only woman._

_The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl._

_You’re the only one that I want._

His arms reach around her waist, pulling her close against him, and he sighs. She leans her head against his chest, and he’s sure she can hear the heavy beat of his heart pounding at her proximity. He loves how perfectly she fits against him. Always.

They stand there, swaying, dancing, pressed against one another until the song shifts. The music courses through Rowan as he leans down and tilts Aelin’s chin up to meet his lips. She never stops swaying as they kiss. The sultry rhythm pulls at them both, their tongues sliding against each other lazily and softly until their bodies start to warm.

Aelin’s hands tug at the collar of Rowan’s t-shirt, and they struggle to remove it together without separating their mouths until the very last second possible and reuniting immediately. Her hands skim his naked chest, and he groans into her mouth. 

He doesn’t know if the party is still raging outside, he can’t hear it; he’s completely immersed in Aelin. Drowning in her.

Delicate fingers unbutton his shorts, palming him through his boxer briefs. And Rowan pulls her closer, his own hands skimming under the hem of her short dress. They both step out of the remainder of their clothes, and a soft laugh escapes Aelin’s lips as she falls backwards onto the bed, making them both bounce. It creaks loudly, but Rowan ignores it, letting his mouth explore every inch of her exposed skin.

Her laughter disappears quickly, much to Rowan’s delight. She whimpers softly as his tongue and teeth and lips trail down her stomach, coming to rest between her thighs. Rowan moans against her, his tongue lapping and sucking and worshipping at the altar of her hips. Her fingers play with his hair, tugging him closer and scratching at his scalp. He barely has time to insert his fingers into her before she’s clenching and shaking around him. It seems like he wasn’t the only one incredibly wound up.

She breathes his name between gasps as he guides her through her orgasm. As her legs fall open, Rowan kisses back up her body, and she’s already waiting with a condom in her hand. He lets his nose skim against her neck as she rolls it on, moving against her gentle touch.

Rowan’s entire body feels on fire as he enters her. Her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him further inside her. As far as he can possibly go. He’s never been closer to her. Ever. He cradles her head in his hands, leaning down to brush his lips against hers with every deep thrust of his hips. He pulls back and stares at her. Her turquoise eyes are trained on his, staring into his deeply as the chords of some song from his playlist swirl around them.

It’s never been like this before. He sees his feelings returned so clearly in her gaze, and as he moves inside her again, he can’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he moans and moves again. His eyes unwittingly close, so relieved to finally have said the words, to have released them into the world, that he almost doesn’t hear Aelin’s soft reply.

“What?” she pants, and Rowan flexes his hips, feeling on top of the world as he repeats himself.

“I l—”

Aelin’s hands press against his shoulders as she releases her legs. He can feel her pulse quicken below him. “No, I heard you… I just…”

Rowan finally opens his eyes as he thrusts again, and he feels Aelin push against his chest again as her eyes widen in panic. “Rowan, get off me.”

Now it’s Rowan’s turn to ask, “What?”

“Get off of me. Please.” Her voice raises in pitch, breaking at her final word, sounding nearly hysterical, and Rowan immediately rolls off of her.

She’s breathing hard as she sits up and covers herself with the sparse sheet from the bed. Rowan stares at her heaving back and his stomach twists. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, and she jumps, startled. She springs off the bed and reaches for her dress, pulling it on quickly.

Rowan sits on the bed, stunned, in silence. He wants to ask her if she’s okay, but it’s so clear that she’s not. And he’s finding it hard to say anything with his heart shattering into a million pieces.

“Why would you say that?” she asks, pained.

“Because I do?” he whispers into his hands. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen. Not at all. He didn’t think this through, but it’s too late now. Rowan deflates as she starts pacing around the room, like a caged animal.

“You’re not supposed to say that,” Aelin whispers back, horrified, and Rowan swallows the pain in his chest as he stands and faces her.

“Why are you looking at me like this is the worst thing I’ve ever said to you?”

“Because it is!” she shouts, and Rowan is shocked when he sees the beginnings of tears start to trickle down her cheeks. “Just take it back,” she pleads, and Rowan staggers backward with the force of her plea. “We only have one week left. Rowan, this has been the best summer, but it’s almost over. There’s no future for us. Love just doesn’t make sense. Let’s just pretend you didn’t say it and go back to normal.”

“No.” Rowan’s heart breaks as he continues, knowing he’s ruined everything, but he reached his capacity for pretending. He doesn’t want to do it anymore. More than that, he can’t do it anymore.

“Everything about this—” he motions between them “—has been on your terms. The secrecy, the sneaking around, when we meet, where we meet. Who is allowed to know, who we’re allowed to spend time with… I haven’t even been allowed to take you on a date. And I’ve gone along with _all_ of it. Because I respected your feelings.” He takes a deep breath. “But you can’t control how I feel. I fucking love you, Aelin.”

Aelin cries in earnest now. “Don’t,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

The words are a knife to Rowan’s chest, but he takes comfort in the fact that he knows they’re completely false. But it doesn’t matter. Aelin has made up her mind. He put himself out there, and she rejected him. She doesn’t want him around past this summer, that much is clear. A temporary distraction is all he’ll ever be to her. He feels like he can’t breathe, the room suddenly much too small for the both of them. He needs to get out of there immediately. He can’t face her pity eyes.

He finally pulls on his clothes and heads to the door. When his hand wraps around the doorknob, he hears Aelin’s panicked voice speak up again.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Why does it matter to you?” he asks, chuckling humorlessly. He slams the door behind him, leaving her behind.

Rowan walks down the dark street, his heart pounding and anger coursing through him. His skin prickles with it. He didn’t think she’d really deny her feelings like this. He refuses to accept her words at face value. He’s seen her lie to herself and to everyone around her all summer, and he knows now he’s just another person she’s passing falsities to. That doesn’t make it hurt less, though. He feels as if he’s just ripped a limb off, and he’s slowly bleeding out.

His feet take him deeper into town and Rowan finds himself back at the diner with a cup of burning coffee in front of him. Head in his hands, he slumps over the table and feels the dejection take over. He’s disappointed. No, he’s more than that – he’s defeated. He’s been deemed nothing more than a plaything for a girl he gave his entire heart to. He doesn’t think he’s ever done that before.

He sits in the diner until his coffee turns cold and finally makes his way back to the motel. The party still rages by the pool, and Rowan finds a seat to watch his coworkers knock back bottle after bottle of booze. He cracks open his own beer and joins in the fun. He doesn’t bother plastering a smile on his face. He scowls as he drinks, realizing he made zero friends this summer. He was too involved in whatever was going on with Aelin. A wasted summer, he thinks to himself, as he sees the groups of friends splashing and laughing in the chlorinated water.

Rowan waits until most of the party has cleared out to head back to his room. He’s hoping to avoid talking to Aelin, hoping she’s asleep. But as he walks up the stairs, he spots her in front of the motel vending machine. Her face glows eerily in the fluorescent light of the machine, making her eyes look sunken in and sallow. He can see tear tracks on her cheeks and wants nothing more than to comfort her, but he knows he can’t. Not anymore.

Instead, he walks past her and heads into their room alone. He gets under the sheets, which still smell like the remnants of their sex, and closes his eyes, needing this day to end. He doesn’t know how long he waits with his eyes closed for her to return to the room, but he knows it’s late. The bed dips and creaks as she gets in with him. She smells like peanut butter and chocolate, her comfort foods.

She perches herself on the far edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, and Rowan’s body vibrates with the sensation of her being so near and not touching her.

Tension radiates between them as their harsh breaths fill the small room. Rowan is still so wired, he’s still up when the sun starts peeking through their curtains, unable to shake the pained expression of her rejection from his mind. He feels like an idiot. So wrapped up in his own hurt, he doesn’t even notice that Aelin is still awake, too, her breath strained and tears pooling beneath her cheek.


	22. Chapter 22

Harsh daylight pierces through Rowan’s eyelids, and he groans and buries his nose into his pillow, feeling exhausted. He has barely slept a few hours, and already his body is waking him up, ruining the paltry amount of rest he was able to get. He’s surprised when his pillow sighs softly and twitches beneath his extended arm. Some time during his limited sleep, Rowan has returned to his default place; wrapped around Aelin. For a brief second, he forgets that anything is amiss as he breathes her in. But when she moves beneath him again, it all comes rushing back, and he feels like there’s an arrow piercing through his chest.

He stiffens and pulls his arm back slowly, not wanting to wake her. He holds his breath, hoping she remains asleep as he extracts himself from the bed. The starched sheets crinkle loudly under his movements, and he listens nervously for Aelin’s breath to change. He’s relieved when she stays unmoving, and he creeps into the bathroom to shower and change into his clothes, needing a few more minutes alone before being forced to deal with her pitying gaze again. He’s never felt so small or pathetic.

The shower does nothing to lift his mood – the soft trickle of water barely able to cover his body as he tries to wash Aelin’s soap from his skin. He knew he should have brought his own toiletries, but she insisted it was more practical to share. Now he’ll have to smell like her the whole fucking day on top of everything else. He scrubs his skin roughly, turning it red, trying to claw out of his own body. But it’s useless. He’s stuck there.

When he makes his way back out to the room, Aelin is awake, pulling her rumpled hair up into a messy bun. She turns when she hears him, and his entire body freezes upon locking eyes with her. She looks like she’s about to open her mouth, but Rowan isn’t ready to hear anything else she has to say right now. Unless it’s – I love you, too. And he has a feeling it’s not. He gives her a stiff nod, dismissing her, and averts his eyes, the crunch of the carpet deafening as he steps across.

She takes the hint and goes into the bathroom without instigating any conversation, and Rowan releases a shaky breath. At the sound of the shower turning on, he gathers his few things and clears out of the room.

The bus is already waiting in the driveway, though no one but the driver is on it yet. Rowan doesn’t care – he’s grateful for the silence. He takes the first seat and leans his head against the cool glass, letting his eyes close again.

He doesn’t open them again until the bus starts to fill up. The excited chatter from his coworkers drains him further, pushing him into an even worse mood. Their happiness has never made him feel more alone. He’d been looking forward to this weekend for so long, and now he’s thinking about the quickest way to make an escape. He wonders if he could fake an emergency sickness and get out of the day. But he knows he has to stick it out and be braver than that. If only he could erect walls fast enough, thick enough, to keep her warm gaze and soft laughter out of his head. He stares out the window, his head tilted away from the aisle, so as not to inadvertently make eye contact with someone he’d rather not. He exudes a – stay the fuck away from me – vibe, which he’s grateful everyone picks up on, and the seat next to him remains blissfully empty.

He focuses on his breath as Aelin and Elide pass him. He smells Aelin’s soap on her freshly showered skin, and it takes everything in him not to turn his head toward her. But he keeps his gaze firmly rooted out the window. He doesn’t need to see how beautiful she looks this morning, and he definitely doesn’t want to see her smiling with Elide, pretending like everything is fine. He’s not ready yet.

Lorcan gets everyone’s attention and explains the day to them. Rowan looks up at the man, catches one glimpse of his twinkling eyes and buoyant smile, and has to look away. It seems like he and Elide didn’t let their shoddy location ruin their plans. Lorcan’s happiness is blinding, and Rowan hates the way his stomach churns with jealousy.

“Rough night?” Lorcan says with a small chuckle as he takes the empty seat beside Rowan, and Rowan grunts his response. “Didn’t get much sleep?” Lorcan prods, and Rowan simply nods, not wanting his voice to break and give him away. Lorcan is too happy to notice, though. “Me neither,” he says with a wide smile, oblivious to Rowan’s despair. Lorcan slaps Rowan’s knee. “Don’t worry. We’ll get some coffee in you, and you’ll be good as new.”

Rowan forces a smile in return, wishing that were true. If only caffeine could fix a broken heart.

The drive to the lodge is far too short, and they get off and are greeted by their retreat leaders, Petrah and Imogen – an elderly lesbian hippie couple with long unruly hair and tie-dyed t-shirts and tevas. Petrah shows them to their breakfast spread, an incredible buffet that overlooks the shimmering lake. She encourages them to eat their fill because it’s going to be a long (but fun!) day.

Rowan wishes he were feeling better, because he would photograph the shit out of this place. The sun reflects off the smooth surface of the lake, glinting gold across the deep blue-green expanse. It reminds him of Aelin’s eyes. He sighs and grabs some scrambled eggs and half a bagel, avoiding the sugary pastries he know will make him feel ill if he tries to eat right now. As it is, he can barely shovel a few bites of eggs into his mouth before he starts feeling nauseous.

The cloying smell of icing and sugar hits his nose as someone takes a seat next to him. He doesn’t have to look to know who it is. Every time she’s around him, his skin starts to prickle and his heart starts to race. Rowan takes a long sip of his coffee and keeps his eyes trained on the scenery in front of him. He takes in the clear blue skies scattered with puffy white clouds, and the pine trees dotting the banks of the lake, looking like a Bob Ross painting – lush and happy. He manages to finish his entire bagel, somehow, despite the feeling of Aelin only a few inches away. He’s grateful for the silence, despite her proximity, because he’s not sure what he would say to her. Or what she would say to him. He needs more time to lick his wounds, preferably without her sticking her fingers into them, making him bleed out slowly. He’s about to stand and throw away his plate when she breaks the silence.

“Are you really just not going to talk to me anymore?” she whispers, her voice low, and Rowan finally looks over at her.

She looks just as tired as he feels, dark circles prominent beneath her eyes as she brings her mug of coffee to her lips. Her hair is down, still half-wet from her morning shower, and her tanned skin is on display in a white tank top and jean shorts. He watches her fingers grasp at the necklace hanging at her chest, needing something to fiddle with as she looks at him nervously. Her brows are furrowed, waiting for his reply, and he hates the way his heart thuds in his chest just from looking at her.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he finally replies. He knows he should bite his tongue and leave it at that, but he can’t resist pushing, reminding her of why this is all happening. “You didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”

Aelin’s lips tug down as she swallows her coffee. She stares at the pastry on her plate, frowning.

“I thought…” she begins and sighs deeply, twisting her necklace around her fingers again. “I thought,” she repeats herself, a large crinkle forming in her forehead as she attempts to say something. “I thought we’d still be friends,” she finally says and looks over at him, her blue-gold eyes stormy with emotion, and it pains Rowan to see it. He hates that he has to be cruel to make her stay away, but he suddenly feels like he’ll suffocate if she keeps looking at him like that.

“You thought wrong,” Rowan snaps, just wanting her to leave him alone to his misery. He has no interest in being Aelin’s friend. He’s never _been_ Aelin’s friends. They’ve fucked and fought, but they’ve never been friends. Not really. They really skipped over the friend part of friends with benefits. This is what he gets in return.

Aelin opens her mouth and closes it again. He watches as fury burns in her eyes, the cold blue melting into molten gold.

“I didn’t peg you for an asshole,” she says, and Rowan has to laugh at that. His laugh is loud and hearty, and it surprises Aelin, whose eyes widen.

“I’m not an asshole, Aelin,” Rowan laughs again. “I’m a sad sap, who got sucked into some pretty rich girl’s orbit and was told he wasn’t good enough to stay there.”

He stands, not wanting to watch the guilt flash across Aelin’s face. It doesn’t escape his notice that she doesn’t refute his statement, though. Not that she could. He walks away, and she doesn’t follow. She simply sits, staring out at the water, completely still. It gives Rowan a moment to breathe. But just barely. Because the day is starting, and he fears he won’t be able to escape her.

They split into smaller groups for their hike – randomly selected as they count off by six. Rowan is relieved when he somehow manages to avoid being in the same group as Aelin. He can’t be around her right now. He needs space to clear his head. And nothing clears his head as well as physical activity does.

The hike is less grueling than he wants it to be, but it’s a fairly steady incline for a solid two hours. So, Rowan pushes himself, staying with the group leader – a young woman named Rhiannon – maintaining their swift pace up the mountain. As he walks, Rowan tries his very hardest to silence the angry thoughts pushing at the sides of his consciousness, begging to be listened to, but it’s impossible. All he can hear is his own berating voice telling him how inadequate he is, how of _course_ Aelin wouldn’t want to be with him. Why would she? He’s a loser. A nobody who’ll amount to nothing, despite his greatest wishes to do _something_ with his life. His own father didn’t even love him enough to stick around, how could he have been stupid enough to think Aelin would feel something for him?

Rowan pushes his sweaty hair from his forehead and tries not to let that thought choke him. It’s the one that’s buried deepest inside him, under layers and layers of thick skin and avoidance, and the only way he can function is if it stays there.

His head pounds, so he takes a seat on a nearby rock while he waits for the rest of his group to catch up with him. He barely has a few minutes to collect himself before they’re walking across the mountain peak. Rhiannon explains the history of the mountain and its lore, but Rowan catches sight of Aelin ahead of him and stops listening.

It turns out he should have listened because it becomes clear that his group is combining with Aelin’s for the rest of the day. They’re going to complete a team building ropes course together. Of course. So much for avoidance.

Aelin’s group leader, a skinny, nerdy looking guy named Ravi, leads them to their first ropes activity – a tall pole they’ll have to climb up, and then cross an unsteady bridge, made of floating planks. Once they all cross that, they’ll have nine more “challenges,” he explains, until they reach the final one – a zip line, which will bring them down to the bottom of the mountain. He holds up a harnesses and explains how to put it on, using Rhiannon as his model, pulling each of the flaps tight.

“These harnesses are what’s going to keep you safe all day,” he holds it out for everyone to see, “So, after putting it on, grab a friend to test it and make sure it’s completely secure.” He tugs at the harness around Rhiannon’s waist, motioning everyone to follow.

Rowan grabs a harness and climbs into it, pulling the legs tight and then the waist. He knows he needs to find someone to test it, and his eyes inadvertently seek out Aelin’s. She’s just stepped into hers too. He briefly considers walking to her when he’s interrupted by a short blonde, who he’s sure he’s worked with at some point, but he struggles to remember her name. 

“Hey, Rowan,” she starts, her voice high, almost as if she’s purposefully talking like a small child. “Mind checking for me?”

She pulls her loose top up to reveal her pale skin, and bunches it in one hand. She looks up expectantly at Rowan with wide blue eyes, and Rowan has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her overzealous blinking. He’s sure she’s trying to bat her eyelashes or something, but it really just looks like she’s gotten something in her eye.

He gives her harness a quick tug. It stays, and so he takes a large step back. But the girl doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“I can check yours, too,” she says, and without a second thought, shoves her hand under his harness, grazing Rowan’s crotch as she goes. She takes a step closer and places her other hand against Rowan’s stomach. He cringes away from her, trying to escape, but he finds himself trapped. “Why haven’t we hung out this summer?” she asks, and Rowan, as politely as he can manage, removes her hands from him and takes another step back. The girl pouts, clearly unhappy with Rowan’s reaction. But as his eyes lift, he can’t help but smile.

Completely unaware, over the girl’s shoulder, Aelin glares, her eyes practically lighting a trail of fire to where they stand.

“Remelle!” she calls out, far too loudly, given how close she’s standing. _Remelle, right_.

Remelle turns away from Rowan, annoyed, to see who’s calling her name, and frowns upon seeing Aelin approaching.

“Think you could check me?” Aelin asks, her eyes dancing dangerously as they flicker between Remelle and Rowan.

“We’re kind of actually in the middle of something—” Remelle replies, and Aelin’s eyes flash with fury again.

“Really?” Aelin asks, and Remelle makes the grave mistake of nodding. Aelin stops when she’s immediately in front of the girl and smirks. “Cause it kind of looked like you were making Rowan really uncomfortable with your unwanted advances.”

Remelle’s jaw drops, and Rowan has to bite back another laugh at Aelin’s sheer audacity. Remelle juts her chin out as she motions to Rowan.

“I think he can speak for himself. Can’t you, Rowan?” Her voice is cloyingly sweet, and Rowan struggles not to shudder. Instead, he rubs at his chin, grateful for Aelin’s intervention.

“No, she pretty much said it.”

Remelle huffs and walks off, swishing her hips from side to side exaggeratedly. Aelin and Rowan laugh simultaneously at the display, but when their eyes meet, Rowan’s smile falls again, remembering he’s supposed to be staying away from this girl who twists him into knots without a second thought.

Still, when she takes a step forward, he dutifully tugs at the harness around her waist. His knuckles brush against the soft skin of her stomach, which is exposed underneath the short hem of her tank top.

He stills when she places her hand atop his and gives him a sad look. “Rowan…”

The pain in her voice shakes him out of whatever trance she’s placed him under, and he removes his hand quickly. “You’re good,” he says roughly.

She clasps her hands in front of her waist and sighs softly. “Rowan, I’m—”

“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” he rushes out in a breath, and she nods tightly. “I need some space.” And he does. He can’t bear this closeness. It hurts way too much. He knows he’ll just keeping getting pulled in over and over, and he made a stand last night. He finally stood up for himself and his feelings, and he needs to keep that boundary secure. It’s the only way he’ll be able to live with himself. She nods again, but she can’t hold herself back from replying.

“I leave in a week,” she says softly. “How much space are you going to need?”

“I don’t know,” Rowan says. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Aelin nods, and Rowan is relieved when Ravi calls the first person to come forward and start the course, directing everyone’s attention to the tall beam.

Surprisingly, Rowan is able to concentrate on each ropes challenge, and is actually good at them. He crosses the unsteady bridge with ease, is used as the anchor for their giant ladder, hoists everyone up and over the cargo net, scoots up the fallen log beam, and glides across the single line bridge with ease. He impresses even himself, and by the end of the day his body is sore from effort and his skin is slick with sweat from exertion, but he feels better. The crisp mountain air feels cool against his skin as they make their way to the final platform.

Ravi clips his harness to the carabiner, and gives Rowan a large push. He zooms down the side of the mountain, the zip line giving him the best view of the giant peak and mountain in the distance. As Rowan speeds down, the air rushing across his face, he has a moment of clarity -- that he’s going to be okay. He has to be. He’s survived much worse than a broken heart.

By the time he’s back on the bus, Rowan feels oddly lighter. He dozes most of the ride back to Terrasen, and he’s surprised when the bus pulls to a stop in the Playland parking lot.

It’s already dark as they pile out of the bus and make their way back to their cars. As Rowan reaches his truck, he hears Aelin’s voice calling out for him.

“Rowan, wait,” she pants.

Rowan turns and steps closer to her. He can see her throat bob as she swallows, readying herself to say something he’s sure is going to wound him to his core, so he stops her. Rowan needs to say something first.

“Chaol once told me that once you fall in love with Aelin Ashryver, you never stop.” He recalls the conversation with a wistful smile.

“He said that?” she says, and Rowan nods thoughtfully.

“I’m never going to stop loving you, Aelin,” he says, his voice tight with a sudden frog in his throat. “And I need time to deal with that.” Rowan breathes deeply. “So, unless you suddenly change your mind about me, I think we probably shouldn’t talk.”

Aelin’s breath stutters as she looks at him. “But I’ll see you at the park, right?”

“Yes,” Rowan nods slowly, and he’s shocked to see Aelin’s eyes fill with unshed tears.

“And I can say goodbye to you before I leave on Saturday?” she asks. As she blinks, waiting, a small tear escapes her eye, but she swipes it away before Rowan can question if it was even there at all.

“I don’t think so,” he says, and Aelin rubs at her eye again. Rowan’s chest aches. “Goodbye, Aelin,” he says.

He’s about to step away and into his truck when her arms latch around his neck and she flings her body at his. She presses her face against his chest, and he lets his lips skim across the top of her hair. Her hands clutch at his neckline, and he allows himself a tight squeeze around her waist as he inhales her floral scent one last time.

“Bye, Rowan,” she mumbles into his shirt. And before he can say anything else, she’s gone, disappearing into the dark.

When Rowan arrives home, Manon takes one look at his face and stands from the couch. “I’ll get the whiskey,” she says, and Rowan waves her off.

“I don’t need whiskey.” His voice finally cracks under the weight of the sadness he’s been pushing down for the last twenty-four hours, and his eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, Rowan.” Manon tuts with her tongue. “She’s an idiot.”

“No,” Rowan shakes his head. “I am.”

He collapses onto the couch and tilts his head back. He can feel his eyes burn with unshed tears. The couch sinks beneath Manon’s weight, and Rowan falls across her lap easily as she tugs his arm toward her.

“You can’t tell anyone that I cried,” Rowan stutters as the tears finally drip down his face and onto the thick fabric of Manon’s ripped jeans. She smooths his hair out of his face, running her long nails across his scalp, petting him gently. He releases the tears in droves, not stopping them from pouring from his eyes. He doesn’t bother swiping them away. He just lets himself feel. He’s so incredibly sad.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Manon whispers, stroking his hair calmly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, with Manon soothing him as he cries. The only sounds are Rowan’s sniffles, until Manon’s voice finally breaks in. “So, now would be a bad time to tell you that I’m moving in with Nimi, huh?” 

Rowan shoots up and looks at his roommate. She bites her lip, her eyes filled with guilt as she examines his splotchy, tear-stained face.

“Isn’t that kind of fast?” he asks, and Manon can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips.

“I’m here to teach you your final lesson about lesbians,” she says with a small laugh. “You now get to witness U-hauling, up close and personal.”

“I’m happy for you,” he says and slinks down to rest his head on top of hers. Manon lets him. “Guess I’m moving home,” Rowan sighs and rubs at his cheeks.

“Your mom will be thrilled,” Manon chuckles, and Rowan groans. This was so not the plan he had in mind for this summer. But, life plans change, he guesses.

Manon pats her lap again, and Rowan doesn’t resist putting his head back down. Manon continues to run her nails across his scalp as she prattles on about the things they need to do before the end of the month. He sighs and nods in all the right places, but he can’t help as exhaustion overtakes him. He’ll think about everything else tomorrow.


	23. Chapter 23

Aelin is so completely exhausted. All she wants to do is sleep but it seems her body’s forgotten how. It’s as if every time her eyes are about to close, her brain startles her awake, making her heart race with adrenaline, anxiety spiking and coursing through her body. This must be some sort of sick punishment, she thinks. Around 5 am, she gives up trying to get any rest and gets out of bed. She may as well have a productive morning if she can’t get any sleep. She throws on her sneakers and plays an exercise video on her television, her feet stepping in time with the hip-hop cardio she used to do every morning at home. The familiar moves relax her, raising her heartbeat so she can’t feel the difference between her endorphins and her prickles of anxiety. Aelin is surprised to realize it feels… good. She smiles when realizes she’s found the magic cure for her restless mind today. Exercise. She doesn’t plan on stopping moving until her body gives out. By the time her parents wake, Aelin has finished two exercise videos, gone for a swim, and walked Fleetfoot. She makes a hearty breakfast of fried eggs, bacon and fruit salad. And is skipping toward the coffee machine for her third cup of coffee when Aedion, Lysandra, Evie and Gavin stride in for the day.

Aelin pauses, realizing her extended family’s appearance means she’ll have to go to the park shortly. The park where Rowan is. Her mind flashes back to their farewell embrace, less than twelve hours ago. She wonders what it’ll be like to see him again. Will he avoid her? Will he say hello? Will he pretend like nothing ever happened between them?

Nope. Aelin isn’t ready to think about that. Instead, she hops from foot to foot around the kitchen, skipping through patches of light like a cat, looking for the best sunshine to curl up under. However, Aelin has no intention of sitting and napping any time soon. She skips all the way to the coffee maker, refills her giant mug and hops back, careful not to let the hot liquid slosh over the side. She must look ridiculous, a constant flurry of movement, but she can’t stop. If she stops, she’ll have time to think. And she can’t do that.

Aelin knows her family thinks she’s gone crazy — she doesn’t care.

“Visual noise,” Aedion complains from behind his coffee mug, waving at Aelin’s ridiculously moving body, but Aelin ignores him, continuing to dance around the kitchen, humming to herself as she sips.

“Did you not get enough sleep, sweetie?” Evalin asks her son, and Aedion laughs.

“I have two kids under the age of ten.” He pauses with a wry smile as a well-timed squeal peels through the kitchen as Gavin chases Fleetfoot out to the back patio. “I never sleep.”

“If that’s true, then why does Lysandra never complain about it?” Aelin asks, and her brother casually flicks her off.

“Because Lys sleeps like the dead.”

Lysandra appears in the doorway, fresh faced, her pink lips curling into a grin as she laughs at her tired husband. “It’s not my fault that a pin dropping would wake you up.”

She pushes his blonde hair back affectionately and kisses his forehead. Aedion looks up at his wife with such love in his eyes, it nearly knocks Aelin out. She takes a large gulp of her coffee, and looks down at the ground where her feet move in tiny circles, tracing the tiles beneath her toes. Up, up, and around. She lets her eyes follow the pattern of her foot, practicing tendus as if she’s back in elementary school ballet.

“Do you want to stay here and rest while we take the kids to the park?” Lysandra asks, and Aedion shakes his head and brushes his lips against Lysandra’s hand. Aelin brings her leg off the ground, tapping it lightly to her knee, before placing it down again. She focuses on the position of her turn out and pointing her toes, just like her old dance teacher used to tell her.

“No, I’ll be fine. Just. Coffee, please?” he begs, and Lysandra rolls her eyes at him, but continues smiling. “If Aelin didn’t drink it all. Seriously, how much caffeine have you had? You’re vibrating the entire room. Sit down, it’s exhausting just looking at you.”

Aelin sticks her tongue out at her brother and watches as Lysandra pours Aedion his coffee with two packets of sugar in the raw and a splash of vanilla creamer. Aelin briefly thinks about how Rowan also needs to put a million things into his coffee to drink it – in fact, last week she filled a glass halfway with coffee and filled the rest with milk, and he still said it was too strong for him. She remembers the way his eyes gleamed when she told him he needed to toughen up, and he smiled and just said he liked things that tasted sweet and then kissed her.

Aelin stops herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about that. She and Rowan are over. Finished. He made that perfectly clear. Aelin slams her mug against the counter a little too hard. It clunks loudly against the marble, silencing the room as she finally stills. 

“So, should we get going or what?” Aelin asks, her foot swinging back and forth distractedly. If her movements are any indictaton, she’s not nearly ready, but she needs to pull off the band-aid eventually.

“Are you okay?” Aedion asks, raising an eyebrow at her odd behavior. But Aelin simply smiles and reassures him with the mantra she’s been saying over and over for the last twelve hours.

“I’m fine.”

The walk to the park seems longer than ever, for some reason. Aelin’s heart thuds loudly, beating in time with each step, filling her with unease as she grows closer to the park. When t finally comes into view, Aelin starts to feel nauseous. It’s probably her third cup of coffee that pushed her over the edge into jittery illness, but she suddenly wants to go back home and tell her mom she’s sick. She’s not ready for this.

But before she knows it, they’re at the entrance. She won’t be a coward, she decides, stepping through.

Aelin keeps her eyes wide open, searching for a flash of silver hair, her stomach roiling with knots as her family heads to their first ride. It gets worse with every corner she turns, holding her breath in anticipation of seeing those dark green eyes and wondering what emotion they’ll hold. Her constant anxiety works its way through her body, exhausting her quickly, and soon Aelin needs a snack break, desperate for a sugar boost.

As soon as she’s ordered her ice cream, Aelin is interrupted by a widely smiling Elide. Aelin smiles back at her beaming friend, knowing that she had a much better weekend than Aelin did and not wanting to bring her down. She heard _all_ about it on the ride back home last night. And she assumes Elide and Lorcan went for a repeat as soon as they were off the bus.

“Hey!” Elide wraps her arms around Aelin’s waist, coming in for a giant hug.

“Hey yourself,” Aelin laughs. “You’re in a good mood again,” she quips, and Elide shoves her arm.

“Shut up. Let me be happy,” Elide grins.

“Judging just the size of Lorcan’s hands, I’m sure you’re _very_ happy.” Aelin winks at her friend, whose cheeks flush and her brown eyes sparkle with glee, confirming Aelin’s suspicions.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, I’m the best,” Aelin says with a chuckle, and it feels good to smile, even if it’s not quite genuine.

“Speaking of, how’s your other half feeling?” Elide asks.

“Dorian?” Aelin replies. “I haven’t heard from him yet today.”

“No, you idiot.” Elide looks at her with narrowed eyes. “Rowan. Lorcan said he called in sick this morning.”

Aelin freezes, the nauseous feeling spilling into her stomach again. “He did?”

Aelin’s pause gets Elide’s attention, an Aelin tries to force a mask of calm on. She’s not entirely sure it works. Elide quirks her head to the side, trying to figure out what’s going on, looking like a confused animal.

“You didn’t know?” Elide asks slowly, and Aelin shakes her head as the snack attendant hands her an ice cream bar, but she’s not feeling hungry anymore. “I assumed you would have been there decked out with soup and juice or whatever.”

Aelin gnaws at the skin on her lip and shrugs. “Rowan and I actually…” She breathes deeply and plasters on a small smile for her friend. “We didn’t have as good a weekend as you. We actually, um, ended things.”

Elide gasps, horrified, and opens her arms to hug Aelin as she apologizes. “Oh my god, Aelin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—" But Aelin stops her quickly.

“It’s fine,” she says with a shrug. “I’m fine.” Aelin sighs, her heart beating loudly in her chest as she repeats her practiced words, the ones she stayed up all night rehearsing and repeating over and over in her head until it became her truth. “We both knew it was just a summer thing, and now summer is over, you know?”

“Yeah…” Elide says sadly.

“Seriously, Ellie. You don’t need to give me that sad face. I’m fine,” Aelin repeats again.

“Okay.” She knows Elide is appeasing her, but she appreciates it. She doesn’t want to keep having this conversation. “Well, if you feel like coming out tonight and getting wasted, a bunch of us are hitting the Mason Jar after work,” Elide says. “You’re welcome to come.”

Aelin smiles, grateful at her friend for dropping it. “I think Dorian and I are supposed to hang later, but we could probably come after? I’ll let you know.”

Elide accepts Aelin’s half-committed response with a small nod, gives her another hug and heads off to her next shift.

Aelin takes one lick of her ice cream, hoping it’ll settle her stomach, but it does the opposite. It tastes like chalk in her dry mouth and she struggles to swallow it. She makes it back to her family, getting ready to go on the log flume. She gives the ice cream to her mother instead, who accepts it with a happy smile, completely unaware of her daughter’s upset. Aelin starts to dance in place again, needing something, anything to do.

Aelin thought she’d be relieved to know that Rowan isn’t in the park, but it’s brought her anything but comfort. Instead, she feels antsy that he’s in his apartment and not at the park. She said she’d see him in the park, and the first day, he goes and stays home? Aelin has a distinct feeling he’s not sick and wants to call him out.

Aelin pulls out her phone, ready to text Rowan and ask how he’s feeling, call his bluff. But she knows she can’t. Who is she to judge him for staying home and avoiding her? Rowan asked for space, and her checking in with him on day one is the absolute opposite of that. She’s furious with herself for even contemplating it. Why is she such a selfish bitch? She can’t even give him a single day off from her? Her chest tugs uncomfortably with the realization that he’ll have the rest of his life off from her. Aelin points and flexes her foot and reminds herself that she’s _fine_. She stands on her toes and plies, again and again, as she repeats the thought to herself.

She shoves her phone back into her pocket and doesn’t take it out again until the day is over.

When she pulls it back out, she’s not surprised to see she has no notifications. She’s been with her entire family the whole day. Who else would be texting her?

Instead of going back down that spiral, she texts Dorian, asking him if he’s still up to hanging out tonight.

He texts her back immediately. **What do you want to do? Movie night?**

Aelin pauses. The idea of sitting and watching a movie for hours sounds like torture. She needs a way to get out of her head. She impulsively texts him if they can go for a run instead. Dorian’s response is immediate.

**A RUN?! We don’t run.**

**We do now.** Dorian doesn’t reply, and Aelin starts feeling her heart pound again with nerves.

**Please?** Aelin texts again. She’s not above begging. She can’t help but feel ansty as she waits for his reply.

**Fine. But I get to pick where we get dinner after.**

Aelin smiles and walks home quickly. Dorian is already waiting on their back patio, running shoes in hand when she arrives. And she can’t help but smile.

“You’re the bestest best friend in the whole world,” she says, hugging him tightly, and Dorian shrugs her off, but she sees his pink ears as she showers him with praise.

“Where to?” he asks, shoving his feet into his shoes, and Aelin doesn’t wait for him to be ready to take off through the house, startling her parents who are opening a bottle of wine and settling in for dinner.

“Try and keep up, Dor!” she shouts, winding her way to the front door and taking off down the long driveway.

Unsurprisingly, Dorian catches up quickly. Despite him complaining about running, Dorian is actually fairly athletic. He played lacrosse all of high school and into college, and running comes second nature to him. He keeps stride beside Aelin, who breathes loudly as she finds her pace.

Aelin isn’t much of a runner herself – she danced and swam as her sports, but she can’t deny there’s something meditative about the even-paced tread of running. Her body falls into a solid rhythm, and she listens to the soft thud of her feet on the hot asphalt to center her as they take off into the neighborhood, the sun starting to set behind them.

“So…” Dorian starts, and Aelin turns her head lightly towards him to see what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t continue, so she assumes he’s trying to prompt her into some conversation, but he’s going to have to work harder than that.

“Ace,” he continues, breathing her nickname out like heavy sigh. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” Aelin asks, pumping her arms harder so she can talk and run simultaneously.

“You don’t need to pretend,” Dorian says carefully, his lips pursed. “I know.”

“Know what?” Aelin asks, turning her focus back to the steady thump, thump, thump of her footfall on the street. 

She’s not looking at him, but she knows Dorian is staring at her like she’s the biggest idiot in the world.

Aelin swallows loudly as she croaks out, “How?” And she watches the tension pull at Dorian’s neck and shoulders as he contemplates his next words.

“A little gay birdie told me.”

Aelin stumbles, losing her footing for a brief second, before ploughing forward. “Manon?” she pants, and Dorian nods.

“We’re actually, uh, friends now?” Dorian tells her nervously as he runs beside her. “I’ve been hanging out with her a lot since she’s started dating Nimi. They’re moving in together.”

“I didn’t know…” Aelin says quietly. Sweat beads run down her forehead and into her eyes, and Aelin wipes at them with the hem of her shirt, refusing to break step again as she thinks about all that she’s missed this summer. She hasn’t spent nearly enough time with her best friend. Yet another thing to add to her ever growing list of things to feel bad about.

“You’ve been busy.” Dorian shrugs and blots off his own sweat. “But you’re… not… anymore?”

Aelin shakes her head. “It was just for the summer. You knew that. It’s fine,” she says for the millionth time that day. “I’m fine.”

She watches as Dorian slows down his pace, so he can turn to her fully, his blue eyes piercing through her. “No, you’re not,” he says, and Aelin’s entire body stiffens under his intense scrutiny.

“Yes,” she insists, not letting his slowed pace affect her. She needs to keep moving and moving fast. “I am.”

“Aelin, come on. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter,” he says, becoming more agitated. He grabs at his curly bangs and tugs them off his forehead, a sure sign of his annoyance with his friend. “I know you. I’ve never seen you like this before. You were so wrapped up in him, I’m surprised anyone could pull you two apart. You can’t just end something like that and be _fine_.”

“Well I did, and I am, okay?” Aelin can feel her pulse racing as she stares at her best friend. She’s always run a little hot, but she never snaps at him.

“I just don’t understand why it ended at all. You’re obsessed with each other and—”

“Dorian, stop!” she hisses as her feet stutter to a complete stop. His lips part in surprise as he stops just in front of her, but he gives into her demands, hands up in defeat as he quits talking.

Her shoulders heave with her heavy breath as she struggles to tamp down her sudden burst of anger.

“Can we please just finish our run and not talk about my no-longer existent love life? Please?”

Aelin knows she can’t handle this conversation. There’s a reason she needs to keep moving, and it is so she doesn’t have to think about this. About being obsessed with Rowan, about being so wrapped up in him that she almost convinced herself she could have him forever. She can’t think about all that she’s lost. Not yet. So, she’ll keep moving instead.

“Can I give you a hug?” Dorian asks, and Aelin shakes her head immediately.

“I appreciate that so much, but… I just can’t, okay?”

Dorian nods, though she’s not sure he really understands what she’s saying. She doesn’t really understand what she’s saying either, honestly.

They pick their feet back up and start their run again, although it doesn’t distract Aelin as much as she wishes it would. Now that Dorian’s poked that tiny hole in her wall, she can feel the sadness start to mix with her anxiety, creating a cacophony of heartbreak seeping into her body. It threatens to drown her in a deadly tidal wave of her own creation.

By the time the pair finishes their run, Aelin is desperate to keep the emotions at bay. She will literally do anything to erase them.

“Dinner?” Dorian pants as he wipes sweat from his brow.

“Yeah,” Aelin breathes heavily. “Where do you want to go?”

Dorian shakes his head. “Lady’s choice.”

Aelin sighs. She doesn’t want to have to make any more decisions right now. So instead, she chooses Dorian’s favorite restaurant. A small Mexican restaurant with cheese coated everything and killer spicy margaritas. If Dorian is surprised, he doesn’t say anything – though he knows Aelin isn’t the biggest fan of the place because cilantro is in literally every dish, and she can’t stand the herb. But Aelin can’t help but think that a margarita sounds pretty damn good right now.

They agree to shower and meet up in an hour, and Aelin takes the time to put on a full face of makeup and do her hair. She needs protection from the real world. If she’s going out and seeing people, she’s not going to be Aelin tonight. She’s going to bury herself beneath layers of hairspray and makeup and too tight clothing. She takes the time to blow out her hair straight, something she hasn’t done since the very first week of summer, and cakes on foundation, dark eye shadow and liner and finishes with a thick coat of mascara. She stands in front of her closet, needing the proper clothes to accompany her non-Aelin look, something to act as armor. She finds a pair of old ripped jeans, which are far too tight, but she manages to shimmy into them, and finishes with a strappy black crop top from her college partying days.

She stares at herself in the mirror, armed with cleavage and sultry eyes, she doesn’t look like herself. And she feels a modicum of relief. She can be someone else and forget her problems. Just for the night.

Dorian whistles when she enters the restaurant, spicy margarita already waiting on the table for her. She brings it to her lips and takes a long sip as Dorian peruses her look.

“All this for me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and Aelin can’t help but roll her eyes at him.

“I thought we could go out dancing after dinner,” she says, quickly swallowing a large gulp of her margarita. It’s spicy and sweet and salty and tingles all the way down as it settles in her stomach. She knows dancing is a long shot – Dorian _hates_ dancing. In public, at least. He can’t stand the bad club music and overheated floors and gaudy lights and overpriced drinks. It’s not his environment; he’d rather do karaoke at a dive bar any day of the week, but Aelin is desperate to keep her endorphins up. Karaoke just won’t cut it.

“Dancing?” He looks put out, and Aelin crinkles her nose at his frown.

“Yeah, you know. Loud music, sweaty bodies, dimmed lights, more drinks...” “I hate dancing,” Dorian scoffs. Aelin is undeterred by his less than enthusiastic attitude, already prepared for his pushback, as she grabs a chip and dunks it into the bowl of salsa between them. “You do not,” she says, exasperated with her best friend already. “You’re just a music snob. But once we get enough liquor in you...”

She lifts up her margarita, already half empty, and Dorian finally cracks a smile. She’s breaking through to him. She knew she’d be able to. Knew the restaurant would help bribe him. “Elide texted me about drinks?” he says, and Aelin sighs. She knew she should have just told Elide they couldn’t come. “Why don’t we just get drunk at The Mason Jar with everyone else.” “Because there’s no dance floor at MJ’s. Pleasseee?” Aelin begs. “Are you going to yell at me again if I tell you you’re acting a little manic?”

Aelin pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. She knows she is. She’s been chasing an adrenaline high all damn day – running and twirling and skipping from activity to activity, unable to stop moving. She can’t think about what happens when the endorphins fade. “I just. Want to dance. Please, Dor. Please.” She pauses and waits for him to answer, hoping against all hopes she can get him to agree to dancing. She knows it’s a long shot, but she’s willing to do anything at this moment to get him to agree .

“If we go dancing, then will you actually talk to me about _you_?”

_Ugh. Anything but that._

“Tomorrow?” Aelin asks, hope blooming in her chest that she can push those feelings off for another day – or ideally until she’s back home in Adarlan and completely alone, and Dorian frowns again.

“Let’s eat first and then decide how we’re feeling,” he says.

Aelin isn’t completely happy with his answer but agrees. She’ll never get him to agree if she pushes too hard.

Instead, she asks him about the last few weeks. She wants to be informed about everything. What has he been up to? How did his friendship with Manon form? What have they done together?

Aelin listens closely as Dorian launches into his stories of what he’s been doing with Manon, following every word as he describes their adventures around Terrasen. He tells her about their time at the brewery and getting free drinks all night because Manon and Nimi convinced the bartender they were newlyweds. And how Manon let him bleach her hair, and he ended up bleaching his arm hair by accident. He pulls up his sleeve to show the evidence, and Aelin cackles wildly at the orange tinted hair on his arm. Dark hair doesn’t bleach well without toner, he explains, causing Aelin to laugh hysterically again.

It feels so good to laugh. Dorian can tell and continually tells her stories, one progressively more absurd than the other. By the time he’s explaining the first time Manon wing-manned for him, and picked up a dude, because she “just assumed,” Aelin is having a hard time breathing through her giggles. 

“But you _do_ like dudes,” Aelin says through her laughter.

“Yeah, but only on occasion! And I can’t believe she even didn’t _ask.”_

Aelin laughs at her best friend, who is clearly acting put out to get her to laugh more. She appreciates his efforts.

“You still hooked up with him, though, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dorian says with a fiendish grin. “He was hot.”

Aelin smiles so widely she feel like her face might crack. “I missed you, Dor.”

He runs his hand through his dark curls and bats his dark lashes at her overzealously. “Yeah, yeah. Me too.”

Aelin bites her lip as she begins to launch into her one last plea for dancing, but it turns out to be unnecessary.

“Alright, to Red Square?” he asks, and Aelin squeals with glee.

“Are you sure?” she asks, wanting Dorian to have a good night, too. “You could invite Manon if you want.” Dorian raises an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Won’t that be a little weird?” “No, I already told you, it’s fine. I’m—“ “You’re fine, yeah. I heard you.” She knows he doesn’t believe her, but as long as he’s willing to go dance with her, she doesn’t particularly care. He bites his lip and Aelin smiles, knowing he’s convinced.

Dorian shoots off a quick text to Manon, who replies quickly that she’s at drinks with Elide – of course, Aelin should have known – but that if they get drunk enough, she’ll be happy to watch Dorian make a fool of himself on a dance floor.

“I like her,” Aelin snorts as she links her arm with Dorian, who pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. Her heart stutters as she thinks of all the times Rowan ghosted his lips across her hair and forehead; his favorite spot to kiss. But she shakes it off quickly, thinking about all the liquor she’s about to consume. She’s ready to have her mind erased. There’s exactly one dance club in all of Terrasen — a Russian vodka bar with a cramped dance floor in the back, where barely twenty people can smush their bodies against each other like sardines, swaying to the bad DJ playing hits from five years ago. Just ever so out of touch. They’re famous for their signature cocktail. The nanotchka. A sugary combination of strawberries, champagne and vanilla flavored vodka. They taste like candy but are seriously lethal.

Aelin immediately orders three.

Dorian lifts an eyebrow. “Manon isn’t coming for a little while yet…”

Aelin smirks and picks up the drinks off the bar. “I know. These are both for me.”

She wiggles her hips as she slurps down half of the strawberry concoction, feeling it warm her immediately. Dorian laughs and grabs the third one for himself, watching Aelin throw back the first drink in record time.

“Dance time?” she asks, feeling looser and lighter already.

Dorian holds out his hand for Aelin to lead the way, and she makes her way from the empty front bar to the back room, which is already pulsing with heavy bass and flashing colored lights.

“I love this song,” she says, traipsing onto the dance floor. Bodies part for her and Dorian, making room for them as she slides into the middle, hips swaying with the steady thrum of the bass. She closes her eyes and lets the music flow through her. With Dorian next to her, she feels safe enough to let loose. She sways happily to the music, sipping at her second drink just enough to keep it from spilling. He matches her pace, grinning at her as she sings along to the song blaring overhead.

_We're all here -- the lights and boys are blinding  
We hang back, it's all in the timing   
It's poker, he can't see it in my face   
But I'm about to play my Ace_

Dorian spins her around, and she whirls in a circle, her hair spinning around her shoulders as she continues to sing too loudly for the small dance floor.

_Baby, we're the new romantics  
Come on, come along with me   
Heart break is the national anthem   
We sing it proudly   
We are too busy dancing   
To get knocked off our feet   
Baby, we're the new romantics   
The best people in life are free_

Her heart swells with the lyrics, singing her affirmations. Before she knows it, her second drink is empty, but Dorian replaces it with a third quickly.

Some time between her second and third drink, Aelin’s head starts to swim, and her body floats away. She’s no longer in control of her limbs – she’s just moving. A body unto someone else. Three quarters vodka, one quarter sweat. And one hundred percent unencumbered by feelings. This is exactly what she wanted. She’s almost forgotten about the persistent painful tug against her chest. Almost.

Aelin is completely wasted by the time Manon arrives with Nimi. She knows they’re not exactly _friends_ , but she can’t help running off the dance floor to greet them with big smiles and hugs. She throws her arms around Manon’s shoulders, stumbling slightly into the tall blonde. They both sway momentarily while Manon regains her balance, but Aelin barely notices, as she moves onto greeting Nimi.

“Whoa,” Manon mutters under her breath at Aelin’s forceful hello.

“You both need drinks!” Aelin chirps, and insists that she get their first round, despite their insistence that they can’t stay for that long. Aelin shushes them and promises the nanotchka will change their lives.

At the bar, Aelin orders another round, and feels someone pressing into her, trying to get to the front. She attempts to move to the side, but the hand on the small of her back just shifts to her hip as she moves. She looks up into the eyes of a tall man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He’s looking at her like he knows her, but she can’t place him.

“Well, well, well, never thought I’d see heiress Aelin Ashryver at Red Square,” he chuckles darkly, and Aelin sways on her feet and narrows her eyes, trying to remember the man in front of her.

“Do I know you?” she finally asks, trying to gather her drinks quickly, but she’s much drunker than she initially thought, because she knocks one over immediately, spilling it all over the bar.

She apologizes to the bartender, but the man in front of her smirks and offers to get her another.

“No, it’s fine,” she says quickly. “I probably don’t need another one anyway…”

And it’s true. As Aelin looks up, she realizes the floor is tilting slightly. She forgot how strong these drinks were. She definitely should have paced herself more.

“Cairn,” the man finally says, and Aelin struggles to remember why that name sounds familiar. “I’m a friend of Sam Cortland’s,” he clarifies. “We met briefly at his party.”

The main thing Aelin remembers of that night is kissing Rowan under a streetlight and how handsome he looked. Everything else was a blur. She shivers and grabs the remaining two drinks, trying to steady herself enough to walk back to the dance floor.

“Right. Well, my friends are waiting,” she says, motioning back to the dance floor, and he finally releases his grasp on her hip.

“See you out there,” he says with a wink, and Aelin can’t walk away fast enough. Even wasted, she knows that guy gives off bad vibes. She finds Manon, Nimi, and Dorian, who have taken their spot in one of the booths, which surround the dance floor.

Dorian pouts upon seeing her two drinks. “None for me?”

“I could only carry two!” she says with a laugh. “Now, who’s coming to dance with me?”

She braces herself on the side of the table and pointedly looks at her friends, but they all avoid her.

“We really are leaving soon… our ride is on the way,” Manon explains, and Dorian grimaces as he pleads a break. His feet are tired. He’s sweaty, and he’s almost ready to leave, too.

Aelin looks at her phone. It’s already after midnight, somehow. She asks Dorian to give her twenty more minutes of dancing, and then they can head out. He nods and says he’ll be waiting at the table for her whenever she’s ready to go.

Aelin slides between the mess of sweaty bodies, finding her place on the floor again. She doesn’t go all the way to the center, wanting to be able to flag down Dorian, should she need him. But, she gives into the music again and starts moving.

Her drunk feet barely leave the ground as she flails her arms and hips. She thinks that’s safest. But she lets herself ascend again. After a few minutes of moving, she feels someone’s hands on her hips as a warm body presses against her back.

She stiffens as she looks over her shoulder and sees a leering Cairn, trying to look down her shirt. She expertly spins out of his arms, and takes a step away to keep dancing alone, but he follows her, undeterred.

“What are you doing?” she shouts over the music.

“Dancing with you,” he says, his hands reaching out to grab at her waist and pull her into himself again. She can feel him hard against her, and Aelin is completely disgusted. Her head swims as she tries to regain her senses, but she’s too drunk, too out of control, and she’s not strong enough to pull out of his grasp as he moves their hips together, his erection poking into her stomach uncomfortably.

“I want to dance alone,” she says, trying to extract herself again, but his fingers are hooked into her belt loops, and Aelin is stuck. She looks over to Dorian’s table, trying to get his attention, but the table is empty. Her heart pounds, suddenly feeling very alone and unsafe and abandoned.

“No one who’s dressed like you are right now wants to dance alone,” Cairn says and dips his head to her bare shoulder. He skims his nose against her skin, and Aelin focuses and pushes against his chest as hard as she can. He barely moves. “Sam told me you were a little tease,” he sneers, and Aelin starts to feel sick.

“Just, leave me alone, please,” she begs, her eyes darting around the room for Dorian or Manon or Nimi. Where did they go? She’s way too drunk for this. Her heart pounds wildly, and not just from the hours of dancing she’s done.

“I don’t think I will,” he says, letting his hands slide down her thighs and grope her ass.

She’s about to shove him again when she’s pulled back aggressively, whipped out of Cairn’s grasp by two strong arms. She stumbles back into her savior and immediately feels warmth creep up her back and neck. She knows his grasp before she even spots his face or hears his voice over her shoulder.

“She said to leave her alone,” he says lowly, and Aelin can’t help but look over her shoulder at her silver haired protector. Part of her thinks she’s dreaming, until she sees the coldness in his green eyes waver when he looks down at her. His anger hardens again as he looks back at Cairn, and she trips over her feet again. The floor is definitely not even, Aelin decides as she stumbles back into Rowan’s chest. His grasp steadies her, and she can’t help but relax into it slightly.

“Who are you?” Cairn sneers. “Her boyfriend?”

“No,” Rowan sighs. “Not her boyfriend.” Aelin can hear the pain behind his exasperation. It’s enough to shatter the walls she’s attempted to keep in place all day, and she can feel tears start to prick at her eyes. God, she’s so, so stupid. Here he is, still saving her. Always saving her.

“Well, then, fuck off and mind your own business,” Cairn says, reaching for Aelin again. Aelin pushes backwards, away from Cairn, and Rowan pulls her with him as he takes a giant step back.

“There you are!” Dorian calls, jogging up beside her. Rowan immediately releases Aelin, and she feels the loss of his warmth acutely, despite Dorian wrapping his arm over her shoulders. “Hey Cairn,” Dorian coos at the sleazy man in front of them. “Should have known you’re the type to prey on drunk girls.” He stares at him, waiting for a comeback, but Cairn stays, staring. “I think you’re done here,” Dorian says again, firmly, and Cairn finally rolls his eyes and stalks back onto the dance floor.

“Are you okay?” Doran asks, looking her over, and Aelin nods, but she can’t help but be distracted by Rowan’s hovering presence.

“I thought you were sick,” Aelin says, and Rowan’s shoulders stiffen as he looks down at her, his face unreadable.

“I figured I was allowed to play one day of hooky.” He pauses. “Is that a problem? You’re not going to tell your parents and get me in trouble, are you?”

Aelin’s brow furrows. “No, of course not,” she mumbles, suddenly feeling nauseous on top of everything else. The wall crumbles in front of her, and pain rushes in, knocking her senseless. “I’m sorry…” She tries to look at Rowan, really look at him, but her head is swimming, and she can’t stand up straight. She slumps against Dorian, who holds her up.

“Let’s get you home,” Dorian says, leading her out of the bar, but Aelin can’t focus on anything except for the slight warmth coming from Rowan’s body, just inches away.

She ignores Manon and Nimi’s concerned looks as Rowan piles them into the cab of his truck. Rowan pauses, staring at them. Aelin wonders what he’s thinking.

Dorian speaks up. “We’ll be fine. Our Uber is already on its way.”

Aelin wants to apologize again, but she can’t say anything. All she can do is watch as Rowan slams his truck door shut and drives off, leaving Aelin slumped against Dorian, her head pounding and her stomach clenched.

The Uber arrives quickly, just as Dorian said, and he pulls her in after him. The Uber driver chats aimlessly with Dorian as Aelin leans against his shoulder. She tries to breathe steadily, but all she can see is Rowan’s angry face, and all she can feel is her broken heart.

At first, just a small tear falls down Aelin’s cheek, but she wonders what she’s fighting it for. Her shaky breath gives way to a loud cry, and she shocks the entire car when a sob rips out of her chest, and her shoulders heave as she lets out her tears. What is her problem? Why did she do this to herself?

She needs to apologize to Rowan, needs to tell him how much she cares about him, how much she wants to be with him. But, she has no idea how to make that future work. She thinks about giving up her life in Adarlan and staying in Terrasen with him for the first time ever. What would that even look like? She has no idea what she wants to do with her life, still. And even if she decided to do that, would Rowan even have her anymore? Her heart splits painfully as she tears herself apart. Sobs wrack through her body as her shoulders heave with the weight of her sadness.

She briefly hears the Uber driver ask Dorian if she’s okay, and she holds up her hand, repeating her mantra over and over – “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

But she and Dorian both know it’s a lie. She’s not fine. She hasn’t been fine since she pushed Rowan away. And for what? To make them both miserable?

She wants him. No, she needs him. So fucking badly. She can’t imagine feeling this empty hole in her chest for the rest of her life. She needs to figure out how to fix it. She just doesn’t know how. She ruined everything.

Aelin’s tears don’t stop, even as Dorian leads her up the stairs of her house and sits her down in her bathroom to wipe away the caked streaks of mascara from her cheeks. He pours her a large glass of water and helps her change into her favorite shirt of Rowan’s to sleep in. Aelin is infinitely grateful when he curls beside her in her bed, without her having to ask him to stay, as her tears continue to pour down her face.

“I’ll take that hug now,” she whispers, and Dorian doesn’t wait a second before wrapping her up into his tight embrace. He rubs at her back and lets her cry it out.

“I don’t know what to do, Dor,” she says, her voice cracking. “Every second I’m not with him I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Her tears fall in earnest again, dampening her pillow.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, pushing her tear dampened hair off her cheeks.

“I leave in five days,” she cries, and Dorian hugs her tighter.

“You’ll figure it out,” he says. She nods, not sure that’s true, but she’s grateful for her best friend. He stays with her, smoothing out her hair and whispering hushed affirmations until Aelin finally falls into a fitful sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

All Rowan wanted was one Aelin-free day to wallow. He even called in sick for the first time in his entire gods damned life to accomplish it, but no – it seems the universe has other plans for him. He can’t escape her. Even on his day off, she manages to appear and twist the knife into his stomach a little further.

The door slams too loudly beneath his touch as he exits his truck, and Manon has the good sense not to ask him if he’s okay. He’s obviously _not_ okay. And he knows when he’s been played. Manon specifically asked him to come inside to help with a drunk girl, not telling him said drunk girl was Aelin.

His chest tightens when he thinks about the way she backed into him to avoid that smarmy creep pawing at her, leaning into him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She belongs at his side. He knows she does. If only Aelin would admit that, too. If only she saw him as a viable option. A real partner.

Manon flashes him an apologetic smile, but Rowan simply shakes his head as his roommate and her girlfriend disappear behind her bedroom door.

Rowan should get to bed, too, but he slept all day in a depressed fit, and after seeing Aelin, he’s feeling far too agitated to sleep.

Instead, he pulls out his camera and hooks it up to his computer. He’d planned to do this earlier in the day, but instead of being productive during his day off, he slept the pain away. Rowan drums his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the machinery to connect. The photos upload quicker than he thought, and before he knows it, he’s scrolling through hundreds of photos. All of Aelin.

His front tooth nearly pierces the skin of his lip as he bites down onto it, as if by keeping his mouth shut he can hold back the onslaught of emotions threatening to bubble up from his tightened chest. He wishes he had a drink. He’s too sober for this.

Rowan scrolls through, wondering which photo he should edit first. He’s overwhelmed by each photo as is passes his vision. She’s so stunning. Her turquoise eyes pierce through the screen, and the spun gold of her hair glimmers in molten waves in each photo, no matter the lighting or photo composition. There’s a reason he couldn’t stop photographing her, and it’s because the camera loves her. He sighs loudly. He knows that’s not the only thing that loves her.

His heart thuds painfully against his ribs as he stops his scrolling. Because nestled in the swaths of photos of her, is a single photo of the two of them. It’s the only one they ever took. The entire summer. The only proof that they were actually together. That their relationship ever existed. 

He’s hesitant to click on it, but he can’t stop himself. The enlarged picture hits him like a punch to the stomach. He remembers the night so clearly, wanting to cheer Aelin up and taking the first steps to have her reconcile with her family. He remembers how beautiful she looked in the buttery twilight with the beginnings of the setting sun behind her, reflecting the metallic ring around her dilated pupil. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t resist leaning his face against the smooth skin of her shoulder, breathing in her floral scent and snapping a picture.

He’s knocked over by the way her eyes light up as they look at him, her smile nearly blinding. Joy oozes off the photo, jumping out of the screen, and despite his mood, Rowan can’t help loosen the tooth that pierces his bottom lip, release his feelings and smile. They _did_ exist, and he’s never been more grateful for the tangible evidence. He wants to print this photo and frame it, no matter what happens in the future. He wants to remember them just like this. Wind-tousled and blissfully happy, attached at the hip and in disbelief that they could ever feel this kind of contentment with another person.

He works for an hour, adjusting the color levels and editing the photo. There’s something soothing about returning to the methodical process of changing the lighting and adjusting exposure, getting rid of shadows, until all that remains is a perfect shot of the two of them. By the time he’s finished, he feels somewhat better.

Rowan pauses, admiring his handiwork, impressed at how quickly his editing skills came back to him. He forgot how natural it is for him to sit at a computer. It’s his second language. Before he has time to second guess himself, Rowan opens up an email.

**mailto: aelin.ashryver  
** **sender: rwhitethorn  
** **subject: (no subject)**

**I emptied my photo card and remembered you wanted this one. I have… a lot more of you if you want them. Just let me know.**

He attaches the photo and immediately clicks send. He doesn’t want to reread what he said. He’s sure he sounds like an idiot, and he’s positive she doesn’t want the photo anymore, but he can’t _not_ send it to her. He needs her to see it. To have that concrete proof, too. To remember them.

A sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over Rowan, and he glances at the clock. 4am. He groans. His alarm is going to go off far too soon. And he absolutely can’t call in sick again. He closes the laptop and places it next to him, and he’s asleep before he even has time to change out of his clothes.

His dreams are vivid, a whorl of colors and pictures and feelings. Unsurprisingly, everything is Aelin. He sees her on that dance floor, dark eyes pulling him in, her clothes like a second skin over her curves. He imagines himself with her, hips pressed together, arms tangled and pulling each other close enough to breathe the other in while the music pounds overhead. Their lips are like magnets, meeting again and again, without a care in the world for the busy club around them, not caring who sees or watches as her lipstick smudges all over his face. Her phantom hands caress his face, and he feels hot all over.

Rowan wakes in a tangle of his sheets, sweaty and breathless. He’s shocked to see he’s up before his alarm has gone off, a rarity, especially given how late he went to bed, but his adrenaline pulses through him, ensuring he’s solidly awake. He groans and opens his eyes, looking around his room, immediately snagging his sights on his closed laptop. He’s sure Aelin hasn’t emailed him back. It’s barely been four hours. She’s surely still sleeping off her hangover, but that doesn’t stop himself from opening the computer and checking. 

His heart jumps when he sees an email waiting with the word Ashryver. But upon a second glance, it’s an email from a different Ashryver than he was expecting. His stomach knots as he reads the email. This can’t be good.

**mailto: rwhitethorn  
** **sender: evalinashryver  
** **subject: Urgent – Meeting Today at 2PM**

**Rowan,**

**Apologies for the late notice, but your presence is requested for a one-on-one meeting today to discuss your employment. A work matter has been brought to our attention that requires immediate discussion. Your manager has been informed that you are to report to our home office for your lunch break at 2PM today.**

**Best,**

**Evalin Ashryver**

Rowan reads the email three times, his pulse racing faster each time he rereads. An email from Aelin’s mom, wanting to discuss a work matter that requires immediate discussion? That can only mean one thing – the Ashryvers somehow know about his relationship with Aelin, and now with only four fucking days left of his employment, he’s going to be fired. As if the Ashryvers needed another reason to dislike him.

He groans loudly and lets his head fall to his keyboard in frustration. This is the last thing he needs. He’s already feeling awful. He doesn’t feel like defending his love life to the parents of the girl who just brutally discarded him. At least he can tell them in all honestly that things are over.

Rowan tries to take his time in the shower, hoping it’ll calm him down, but the warm water just makes him feel overheated in his own skin. He can’t bring himself to stand in the shower any longer, starting to feel ill. He brushes his wet hair and puts on his cleanest uniform before heading out of the house. The least he can do is look composed.

He arrives at the park a full thirty minutes before his shift. He walks into the employee room to make himself a cup of coffee; he’s going to need some extra caffeine today.

Lorcan and Elide are already in the kitchen, completely wrapped up in each other. Rowan laughs softly at them, the picture of perfect summer love – Lorcan’s hands in Elide’s back pockets, and Elide tugging at Lorcan’s neckline, impatiently trying to bring his lips down to her level.

The pair jumps apart quickly at the sound of Rowan’s laugh, but he waves them off, insisting he doesn’t mind. The smile drops off his face when Lorcan turns to him with a serious expression, though, reminding him of why he’s at the park so early, and what awaits him later today.

“You don’t know what she wants to talk about, do you?” Rowan ventures to ask, and Lorcan shakes his head.

“Sorry, man.”

Elide looks confused, and Rowan fills her in on the ominous email he received this morning. Elide’s brow furrows, trying to come up with an alternate reason that Evalin Ashryver would need to talk to him, but even the optimistic girl is at a loss.

Lorcan slaps his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

Rowan isn’t as confident.

Minutes feel like hours as Rowan spirals into dread mode. He spends the morning letting people onto the swings, but nothing is distracting enough to keep his mind off the impending conversation about his employment. Despite Rowan’s decision to move back to Wendlyn at the end of the moth, he’s calculated his move down to the last dollar and really needs this final paycheck. It’s not like he’s been able to save this summer. He’s barely made minimum wage. He spends the morning frowning away, lost in a maelstrom of possible outcomes of this conversation – each one worse than the last.

When 1:45 rolls around, Lorcan pulls Rowan off his shift and tells him to head to the Ashryvers’.

The sinking feeling returns to Rowan’s stomach when he checks his phone and sees that on top of everything, Aelin hasn’t replied to his email.

Instead of walking, Rowan gets into his truck and drives to the Ashryver Estate. He doesn’t want to risk getting sweaty and gross walking along the beach, and he definitely wants to be prompt.

For the first time all summer, Rowan parks at the head of the Ashryvers’ driveway. He takes in the large house, which suddenly looks scarier than ever. It’s funny. He’s been in this house about a hundred times since May, but it’s still as imposing as ever.

On the front stoop, Rowan pokes his toe at a loose stone and shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side of that door, but he knows it’s not good.  
  
Sweat beads down the back of his thick uniform polo under the hot August sun overhead. He tugs at his collar, trying to give himself some room to breathe. But he’s finding it quite difficult.  
  
He’s been on the other side of this door plenty, but he can’t help but think of all the times he used Aelin’s window as his entrance. If her parents know about that… His stomach clenches with nausea. He’s kept Aelin’s secret, yes, but he’s been so incredibly disrespectful to her parents. He wasn’t brought up this way. His mom would absolutely smack him if she knew this was how he conducted himself this summer. He juts his chin out, ready for his chastising. He knows he deserves it.  
  
Rowan lifts his hand out of his pocket and hovers it over the thick wood paneling of their front door. If he waits any longer to knock, he’ll be late, and he knows arriving late to this meeting is the absolute worst thing he could do to Evalin Ashryver. Well, besides sleeping with her heiress daughter and sullying her good name. Rowan rubs his hand along his face. He is so utterly fucked.  
  
He can’t wait any longer. Rowan knocks steadily in three even raps.  
  
The door swings open, and Rowan swallows nervously as Aelin comes into view, looking worse for wear. He was expecting Evalin to answer the door, and Rowan feels even more off-balance at this twist. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect Aelin. She looks even more surprised to see him, and Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so out of sorts.

She tugs at her tangled, unbrushed hair, which is falling out of her low ponytail, swollen eyes filled with confusion. Remnants of eyeliner and mascara darken her bottom lash, making her bloodshot eyes even more prominent, and her skin is pale and clammy. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was very, very sick. He watches as Aelin pulls her robe closed tighter, hiding her thin tank top and shorts from his view.  
  
“Rowan?” She croaks, her voice barely a whisper between them, echoing in the marble foyer. “What are you doing here?”

Rowan looks down and takes note of her large furry slippers. He can’t help but smile.

“Those are cute,” he says, pointing at her feet, and Aelin’s nose scrunches up as she tries to hide one slipper behind the other.

She wipes at the dark circles under her eyes, and Rowan recognizes that she’s feeling self-conscious about the way she looks. Not that she should. Even hung over and disheveled, Aelin is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. He’s about to reassure her when Dorian ambles out of the kitchen, a foil wrapped food in hand.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Rowan shrugs tersely as Dorian wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. Aelin looks up at Dorian, eyes wide and unblinking, clearly still out of sorts. “Your burrito is ready,” Dorian says in a soft aside, nudging Aelin in the ribs. She licks her chapped lips and gives him a small smile.

“Do you want some lunch?” Aelin asks Rowan, her words filled with nerves. Rowan is anxious to talk to Aelin, of course, but he remembers that he’s not here to chat with her and steadies himself as he shakes his head. Rowan thinks she looks disappointed, but he can’t be quite sure.

“I’m actually here for a meeting. With your mom,” he clarifies. “Is she around?”

Aelin’s mouth drops into a soft circle as she begins to ask why.  
  
He’s about to answer her and maybe ask for any intel or advice when Evalin appears, looking even more austere than usual in a dark blue dress, her hair neatly pinned back in a perfectly coiffed chignon and a strand of pearls around her neck. Her heels click clack along the marble floor until she reaches Rowan. She greets him with a warm hug and a wide smile.  
  
“Rowan. Right on time.” She squeezes his arm lightly. “Let’s chat in my office, okay?” she says firmly, and Rowan has no choice but to nod.  
  
Aelin clearly doesn’t know what’s going on and looks as confused as ever. “Mom?”  
  
“Aelin,” Evalin chides. “When you finish your …” she pauses dramatically and nods at the foil in Dorian’s hands. “…breakfast, can you please go take a shower? I can still smell the vodka coming off your skin.”  
  
“But…”  
  
Evalin’s glare silences her daughter immediately, but it doesn’t wipe the look of confusion from her questioning face as she nods. Satisfied, Evalin leads Rowan into her office.  
  
Rowan remembers the room well from his tour with Aelin all those weeks ago, but it somehow seems even more daunting now. It’s clear the room is rarely used, despite the armchair by the window and the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. Rowan looks up and up and up. The built-in bookcases threaten to swallow him hole, with bindings going up to the ceiling. Evalin trails slowly to the desk and leans against the edge, rather than sitting in the large high-backed chair behind it. She points to a smaller chair for Rowan to sit in, and he takes his place immediately. Evalin’s face is tight with a forced smile, and he’s sure any second now he’s going to receive a verbal lashing.

“So,” she begins, and Rowan sits up straighter. “It’s my understanding that your last day at the park is on Saturday,” Evalin says, and Rowan nods, his throat too tight to verbally respond. The room creaks and settles, the dark wooden floors also seemingly holding its breath to see what Evalin has to say.

Evalin pauses and holds a single finger up. Rowan watches with interest as she walks to the far bookcase and pushes slightly. The wall cracks open, and Rowan remembers the number of secret passageways and hallways Aelin led him through in their tour. So, he’s not entirely surprised to see Aelin and Dorian, crouching in the entryway of the hidden tunnel.

“Children,” Evalin scolds, and Aelin and Dorian are quick to scramble to their feet.

“Mom…” Aelin peers over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at where Rowan sits, but Evalin isn’t having any of it.

“Rowan and I are in a private meeting right now,” she says. Aelin looks like she wants to object, but Evalin pays her no mind. “No one likes a snoop.” She ushers them into the study and leads them toward the door without a word.

“I swear, she has super-sonic hearing,” Dorian mumbles, and Evalin smiles.

“I do,” she says, causing Dorian to blush. Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so flustered. It would be amusing if he weren’t sure he was about to be on the receiving end of Evalin’s wrath himself.

“Don’t let me catch you back there again,” she says sternly, and Dorian and Aelin reply with yes ma’ams in unison. Aelin looks over her shoulder one last time at Rowan before departing, and Rowan wants nothing more than to chase after her, but he’s stuck in his chair.

Evalin returns to her spot, leaning against the desk and crosses her arms. “Now. Where were we?” Rowan waits in silence. “Oh yes. Your employment coming to an end.”

Rowan’s stomach sinks. He’s about to get fired. He feels like he has to speak up, defend himself. But he’s not exactly sure what to say. So, he just babbles.

“Mrs. Ashryver, Evalin, ma’am…” He tugs at his hair, trying to work out his nerves, and barrels forward. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disrespected you or your family. It wasn’t my intention at all, but I would really love to finish out the week at Playland. I know I’ve overstepped my bounds, but I promise it won’t happen again. Ever.”

Evalin quirks her eyebrow at him and nods succinctly. “I understand why you would think you overstepped your bounds,” she says. “But, you didn’t.”

Rowan pauses, holding his breath. “I didn’t?”

“No. In fact, I was discussing it with Rhoe, and we both very much appreciate your initiative.”

Rowan lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “You do?”

Evalin laughs warmly, her smile reminding him so much of Aelin suddenly as her turquoise eyes crinkle with happiness. “Yes.” She crosses her ankles and leans forward.

Rowan pauses again and crosses his arms. “I think I’m confused,” Rowan finally admits, and Evalin laughs even more.

“I can see that.”

“So I’m not getting fired?” Rowan asks hesitantly, and then it’s Evalin’s turn to look confused.

“Fired? What on earth for?” She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

His brow furrows. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Are you still interested in pursuing a career in tech?” Rowan nods slightly, his thoughts bouncing around and wondering what the hell Evalin actually wants to talk about. If not Aelin… “I have an opportunity for you.”

Evalin pulls out a packet of papers from behind her on the desk and hands it to Rowan. He looks over the printout and then looks back up at Evalin, who is still smiling at him.

“I brought your app idea to the Playland board, and they were very impressed. They’re going to start a development team. It was a smart idea,” she chuckles. “In fact, I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t think of it first.” He looks over the papers in his hand again. It’s the breakdown of the app he pitched over dinner. He can’t believe it. Evalin clears her throat. “I don’t know what your employment plans are beyond Sunday, but we’d love for you to join the team.”

Rowan’s mouth drops. He’s actually speechless. Of all the things to he could talk about with Evalin Ashryver, this didn’t even make it to the bottom of the list. Never in his wildest dreams did he think she would take his idea seriously, much less pitch it to the board and then offer him a job there. His stomach churns slightly.

“The only catch is—” Rowan holds his breath as he wonders what the strings attached to this offer are. “The job starts in two weeks, and it would be in our offices in Adarlan.”

Rowan exhales, an onslaught of feelings attacking him. He can’t process what she’s just said.

“Adarlan….”

Evalin nods. “I understand that it would be a significant move, but we’d help with the relocation costs, and—”

Rowan stops her, thinking about showing up in Adarlan in two weeks, the place where Aelin lives. An awful thought crosses his mind.

“You’re not just offering this to me because I’m… friends with Aelin, are you?” he asks nervously. “I don’t want to take a job I haven’t earned.”

Evalin frowns and pats at her pearls. “Rowan, you have more than earned your spot on this team. It was your idea. But if it makes you more comfortable, you can interview with the head of the team. He’s meeting with a few other candidates in the next few days. I’ll tell him to add you to the list.”

Rowan nods. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” Evalin claps her hands happily. “Look out for an email from Malakai or his assistant to schedule the interview for this week. In the meantime, please send me your resume, so I can forward it along.” She pauses and looks at Rowan seriously. “Now, would you care to tell me why you thought you were being fired?”

Rowan coughs, and he can fill blood filling his cheeks with embarrassment. “Not particularly,” he mumbles.

Evalin chuckles again and sighs loudly. “I’m sorry if my email was scary,” she apologizes. “I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but now that I think about the wording, I may have misled you.”

“It may have taken a few years off my life,” Rowan says, causing Evalin to burst into laughter. “But thank you,” he continues, “I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

The study door cracks open and Rhoe pokes his head in. “Ah, did I miss it?” he asks, entering and clicking the door shut behind him. Evalin rolls her eyes at her husband.

“You did.” She looks at her watch and then back at him. “I told you. 2pm, promptly.”

“I got distracted by burritos,” Rhoe admits, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Who knew Dorian was such a good chef?” He pauses and looks at Rowan. “So, did the Ashryvers recruit a new coder?”

“Not officially,” Evalin answers for him. “Rowan, ever the humble and upstanding young man, has insisted upon an interview.”

“Ah, of course,” Rhoe says with a soft smile. “I told you he wouldn’t just accept a job offer.”

Evalin’s eyes twinkle at her husband. “Yes, I know. You know everything, darling.”

She kisses him lightly on his cheek before looking back at Rowan.

“Alright, well, I have other meetings to attend to, sadly,” Evalin says, “But I look forward to hearing about your interview.” She shakes Rowan’s hand firmly and heads out of the study. Rowan starts to follow her, but Rhoe holds him back for a second.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Rhoe says, and Rowan is immediately caught off-guard.

“For what, sir?”

“Don’t look so shellshocked, Rowan,” he says with a soft laugh. “We’ve loved getting to know you this summer. Having you around has been a treat. I know it must be hard to be away from your own parents, on the other side of the country. But, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how proud of yourself you should be. This app was a phenomenal idea. You’ve proven yourself to be intelligent, driven and…” Rowan can feel heat rising to his cheeks at Rhoe’s praise. He watches carefully as Rhoe pauses and lowers his voice, looking around conspiratorially. “And… don’t think I don’t know who’s kept that smile on my daughter’s face all summer.”

Rowan’s heart thumps in his chest. Rhoe knows. Oh god. Rhoe _knows_.

“I…uh…what?” Rowan stutters, unsure of how to respond. Luckily, Rhoe laughs and slaps a hand onto Rowan’s shoulder.

“Don’t look so petrified, son. I’m happy for you both.” Rhoe looks sincere, but Rowan’s stomach clenches at an awful thought.

“That’s not why you offered me this job, is it?” Rowan asks softly. He has to know. He won’t take it, won’t even interview for it if they’re offering it to him because of his relationship with Aelin.

“No no no,” Rhoe assures him. “My wife is not the most observant human on the planet. She has no clue. You and Aelin can tell her whenever you’re ready.”

Rowan rubs his hand against the back of his neck, needing something to do. “Well.” He coughs lightly. “I don’t think there’s anything to tell anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Rhoe says, his voice sad but a small smile making an appearance on his face. Rowan wonders what Rhoe knows that he doesn’t. But he’s too overwhelmed to think about that just yet.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Rowan says again, and he means it.

Rhoe shrugs him off. “I did nothing. This was all Evalin,” he says with a smile. “And, Rowan? You created this opportunity all yourself.”

Rowan nods and smiles stiffly as Rhoe leads him back out to the foyer.

A freshly showered Aelin sits on the stairs, finishing her final bite of burrito, and she stands quickly upon seeing her dad and Rowan. Rhoe pats her head as he passes by, giving Rowan a sly smile.

“So,” she says, and Rowan replies with the same sentiment. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asks.

Rowan wants to tell her. He really does. But he’s too overwhelmed with possibilities at the moment. He doesn’t want to tell her anything that isn’t real. He can’t risk seeing her reaction to this news. Not when it could possibly break him.

“It was nothing,” Rowan says, and Aelin’s brow furrows, knowing he’s lying to her. I mean, he had a legit meeting with her parents. And no one has told her a thing. He knows she’s dying for information, but he just can’t tell her anything yet. “Where’s Dorian?” he asks, trying to change the topic.

“Showering,” she says, flicking her eyes upwards to the ceiling. “Do you want a burrito? They’re amazing…” she asks, but Rowan shakes his head.

“I should get back to work,” he says, looking at the time. He can’t believe how long they were in there talking. 

“Right.” Aelin sighs and follows him to the door. “Hey, Rowan?” she says, stopping Rowan before he reaches for the door handle. “Thanks for last night,” she says. “For rescuing me.” He nods stiffly. “I know that wasn’t your idea of a good night.” He shakes his head, laughing softly. No it wasn’t. “And Rowan? The picture? Thank you for sending it,” she says quietly. “I love it.”

Rowan smiles. “I do, too.”

Aelin bites her lip and twirls her long, wet hair around her fist. “You’re really not going to tell me what my parents talked to you about?”

“Nope.”

“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she says, and Rowan laughs.

“Maybe.”

He averts his eyes, not wanting to look at her, knowing he could break at any second. But Aelin seems to accept his reticence.

Aelin sighs. “I deserve that.”

Rowan wants nothing more than to talk with her and tell her everything, ask what he should do, what it would mean for them, but he knows he needs to think about this without her input.

“Ok, I really need to leave or I’m going to be late,” he says, and Aelin gasps.

“Right! Of course. Go.”

Rowan leans in to her hug her, on autopilot, without even thinking about it. And he can feel Aelin’s sharp inhale of breath as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and mindlessly brushes his lips against the top of her head.

“Sorry…” he says, pulling back quickly.

“It’s fine,” she chokes out, and Rowan flees the premises before she can say anything else.

By the time he gets back to work, Rowan’s imagination has run off without him. He can’t help but think of all the ways his life would change if he were to take this job in Adarlan. Would he be able to pursue Aelin, even if he was still working for her mother? Would they have to tell her mom? Clearly her dad knows, but for some reason, Rowan thinks he’s more amiable to the idea of Rowan than Evalin is. Or, was this whole job opportunity a ruse to get him to be a more acceptable partner for Aelin, one they wouldn’t be ashamed of? Doubts and confusion plague his thoughts as he rips tickets.

When Rowan receives the email from Malakai’s assistant later that night, asking to interview the following afternoon, Rowan is more unsure than before.

So, Rowan does what he should have done as soon as Aelin ended things with him, he calls his mom to tell her everything.

Dora wakes from an early evening nap to answer his call, and Rowan immediately feels guilty, but Dora is more than happy to talk to her son. He explains his situation to her, getting more and more tied up in his emotions as he goes, and when he finishes, Dora is silent on the other line.

“Mom?” he asks, and Dora sighs loudly.

“My sweet boy,” she clucks. “You know I would love nothing more than to have you back home with me, but… you need to do this.” She pauses. “No matter what happens with Aelin, this is the beginning of your career. With an app you thought of yourself and are going to get made. Rhoe was right. You should be very proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

“Doesn’t it feel like cheating though?” Rowan asks. “Like if I hadn’t been seeing Aelin, I never would have gotten this chance, and I’d be moving home with you.”

“Baby,” she laughs. “That isn’t cheating. It’s called networking. And yes, you were in the right place at the right time, but it doesn’t make you any less deserving of this. You deserve this so much.”

Rowan sighs. “But…what if Aelin gets upset that I followed her back to her hometown. I’ll feel like a crazy pathetic stalker.”

“Fuck what Aelin thinks.”

“Mom!” he says with a laugh. He’s never heard her swear so casually before.

“This is about you. And she should support you, even if she doesn’t want to date you.”

Rowan hesitantly agrees. It’s not like Aelin works for her parents. In fact, she’s told him many times she never wants to, and hates going into the Ashryver offices. And Adarlan is a big city. The chances of him accidentally running into her are slim.

Feeling slightly appeased, Rowan thanks his mom and preps for his interview. His feelings for Aelin aside, he wants this. He just hopes he can start believing he deserves it, too.


	25. Chapter 25

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever been this hung over, or this confused. The ghost of Rowan’s lips caresses her forehead as she lies down on the couch, sprawled in front of the television to watch some obstacle course challenge show that Dorian enjoys heckling.

After Rowan fled her house – yes, fled – she immediately went in search of her parents to find out what they’d been meeting with him about, but she received absolutely nothing in return.

“If Rowan wants to discuss it with you, I’m sure he will,” Rhoe had said with a traitorous, all too-knowing smirk.

Aelin wants to throttle him. She loves her dad, but she’s far too twisted up in her own emotions to be sated by his logical non-answer. Meanwhile, her mother isn’t even on the premises to be questioned. Hiding away in meetings, like a coward. She wants to know _so badly._

She contemplates texting Rowan to ask. After all, he clearly opened up their channel of communications again with that picture of the two of them… right? But she can’t help but think her dad is right. If Rowan wanted to tell her what they talked about he would. The question is, what the _hell_ could her parents want to talk to Rowan alone about? What kind of topic required a one-on-one meeting with one of their employees?

Aelin tries to relax, even nap for a bit, but anxiety plagues her brain. The not knowing is keeping her stomach in knots. So, when Dorian departs for the afternoon with a reassuring arm squeeze, Aelin retreats to her safe spot – the music room.

The late afternoon sun splays its warm rays across the piano, tendrils of sunlight curling around her and slowly helping dissipate her hangover. With a deep breath, Aelin spreads her fingers and takes off. She warms up with scales, trailing up and down the keys with her expert touch. She segues into one of her favorite pieces – Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. The pulsing methodical rhythm of the left hand keeps her centered as the dark somber tones float through the room.

The piece is sad, and it pierces her to the core. She lets her emotions flood through her hands as she tries to play out her complicated feelings for Rowan.

As she reaches the third movement, she lets her anxiety out into the frantic, technical workout for her fingers. The frenetic pace matches her rapid heartbeat, the worry and stress and heartbreak of the last few days taking over. She wants to cry. She wants to scream. She wants to let everything out. She gives into the heartache she feels, the stress from hiding, the shame of letting him go, the loneliness of being without him. It all comes pouring out in droves. She’s overwhelmed with her feelings. She knew she was sad, and to let it all out like this makes her feel like she’s bleeding out. She lets the music speak for her. And it speaks loudly.

As the final notes ring out, applause comes from behind her, and she gasps, startled by the intrusion.

“Sorry,” Rhoe apologizes, squeezing Aelin’s shoulders gently. “You were in the zone, huh?” he asks, and Aelin shrugs, still breathing hard from the musical marathon she just ran.

“Yeah,” she breathes heavily. “That was intense.”

“Maybe something lighter next?” Rhoe suggests, and Aelin smiles as her fingers take off at lightning speed for her favorite Mozart concerto. The complex finger work distracts her from her feelings momentarily as she performs for her dad.

When she turns around again, she’s surprised to see her dad has been joined by the rest of her family – her mom, Aedion, Lysandra, Evie and Gavin clap thunderously, appreciating her performance. She starts to stand to see if she can finally question her mom, but she’s interrupted as Gavin sprints toward the music bench, climbing next to her in the clumsy way only a five-year-old can.

“I wanna learn!” he says, looking up at her with his widest blue green eyes.

“You do?” she says, chuckling softly. He nods excitedly, and she smiles at her nephew’s enthusiasm.

Aelin’s family quickly disperses, her mom shouting out that dinner will be ready in an hour, but Aelin is entranced by her nephew’s gleeful smile.

“Teach me!” he demands happily.

“I think that piece might be a little too hard,” she explains, while placing his little fingers on the proper keys. “But, I think I know the perfect one…”

She begins showing him the middle C note and moves his thumb in a rhythmic pattern from there. She shows him the notes an octave higher, slowly performing the easy back and forth of the base.

“Like this?” he asks, starting to move his hands in time with hers.

“Just like that,” she says. He fumbles the keys a few times, and Aelin places her fingers over his to help, but soon enough he manages the bass line easily. Aelin can’t help but smile, her heart swelling with pride at how pleased Gavin looks with himself.

“Auntie Ae, look, I’m doing it!” he squeals, and she nods animatedly.

“Are you ready to turn it into a duet?” she asks, and Gavin crinkles his brow, suddenly looking very serious and so much like Aedion it takes Aelin out for a second.

“What’s a duet?” he asks thoughtfully, and Aelin tries her hardest to explain it in terms a five-year-old will understand.

“Well, you’ll keep playing your part that I just taught you,” she says, “And I’ll add a new part up here,” she says, wiggling her fingers over the higher keys. “And when you put it together, it makes the whole song.”

Gavin’s eyes get impossibly wide as she explains, until he’s practically vibrating on the bench next to her.

“You want to try?” she asks, and he shouts his enthusiasm loudly.

She lets Gavin start his part and play it two times through before coming in herself. She can’t help but sing along as she plays the jovial melody.

> _Heart and soul, I fell in love with you_

> _Heart and soul, the way a fool would do, madly_
> 
> _Because you held me tight_

> _And stole a kiss in the night_

“There are WORDS?!” Gavin asks, incredulous, pausing his baseline.

Aelin nods and laughs, her heart lightening immensely as they start the second verse. The dark cloud of heartbreak that hung over her previous songs is notably gone, replaced with a much lighter one as she launches into the second verse.

> _Heart and soul, I begged to be adored_

> _Lost control, and tumbled overboard, gladly_
> 
> _That magic night we kissed_

> _There in the moon mist_

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she helps Gavin pick up the pace of his playing. She looks down at her nephew with adoration. She suddenly feels so happy, she feels like she might float away, filled with the intoxicating glee. Her heart soars as she launches into the final verse.

> _But now I see, what one embrace can do_

> _Look at me, it’s got me loving you madly_
> 
> _That little kiss you stole_

> _Held all my heart and soul_

Aelin is so caught up in her playing that she doesn’t even notice Aedion sit down on her other side and play the melody with her one last time, an octave above her. Aelin laughs loudly as Gavin’s mouth drops again.

“Daddy, you _know_ this song?”

Aedion chuckles softly as they wrap up the song with a flourish.

“I remember when Nana Ashryver taught us how to first play Heart and Soul,” Aedion says. His shoulder leans gently int his sister’s. “You were even younger than Gavin.”

Aelin remembers it well. It was when she decided the music room was her favorite room.

“Look at you now,” Aedion says.

“Again, again!” Gavin chants from his spot on the bench, and Aelin and Aedion appease him, playing the song over and over until they’re all hoarse from singing too loud. Aelin is so happy she feels like her face hurts from smiling so much.

As they replay the song, Aelin trips up on the lyrics. Her voice cracks slightly as it hits her in a sudden flash. This feeling of happiness, the ease she feels at the piano, singing her heart out – it’s exactly how she feels when she’s with Rowan.

She never felt this way with Chaol. Never felt her heart pound against her ribs until they threatened to puncture her chest. Never missed him as soon as he was out of her sight. Never thought she would fall apart if she never saw him again. Never felt like she _belonged_ with someone so fully.

When she and Chaol broke up, Aelin had forced herself to wallow – to play the part of the sad girl, but she realizes now that she’d never really felt that way. Each break up had been a relief, a small reprieve to the uncomfortable life she’d tried to shove herself into. It was just another thing she had lied to herself about.

“Oh my god,” Aelin laughs to herself as they wrap up their final run through of the song. She can’t believe how stupid she’s been. Truly, she’s an idiot.

An idiot who’s in love.

She wants to run and tell Rowan right now.

_She loves him._

“Wash up for dinner, please!” Evalin shouts from the kitchen, interrupting her thought process, and Gavin sprints away, not bothering to give Aelin or Aedion another look.

“I see how it is,” Aelin laughs as she puts the piano lid down, covering the keys. Aedion gives her a pointed look. “What?” she asks, wiping at her face, in case she has a piece of long forgotten burrito attached to her cheek that no one told her about.

“We were summoned for cheer up Aelin duty, and we had to do practically nothing. Look at you,” he says. “You’re glowing. You’re not pregnant, are you?” he asks, suddenly concerned, and Aelin groans and shoves him away.

“You were summoned?” She can’t imagine her family knows why she’s been in a mood for the last two days. “By who?”

“Dad,” Aedion finally admits. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and Aelin leans into her brother’s warm side.

“I broke up with Rowan.”

“Huh.”

Aelin extracts herself from under Aedion’s arm and pokes him. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Aedion pauses. Aelin stares, but Aedion gives nothing up. “Nothing!” he insists. “I liked him.”

“You did?” Aelin asks, perplexed. That’s not how their last conversation about Rowan went. “What about that whole fucking the gardener bit?”

Aedion pinches his nose and looks regretful. “I slept alone for a whole week for that comment, and I knew as soon as it was out of my mouth that it was wrong,” Aedion confesses. “He makes you happy.”

“Yeah, he does,” Aelin laughs sadly.

“But, you’re…. okay?” Aedion asks, and Aelin nods.

“Better than okay.”

Aedion shrugs. “Well, okay, then.”

At dinner, Gavin spends the entire time telling the family about his new penchant for piano, and Aelin tells him she has a few more pieces he can learn if he wants.

“We’d pay you for lessons,” Lysandra adds, and Aelin pauses mid-bite.

“You would?”

Lysandra nods. “Of course. We tried to get a teacher for Evie, but she was ‘too mean,’” Lysandra says in air quotes.

Evie pouts. “She was! She stretched my hands too far and cut my nails down.”

“I would never,” Aelin says seriously, winking at her niece.

“Seriously,” Lysandra follows up. “Think about it. We paid the last girl $100 an hour.” She looks at Gavin. “Would you like that, Gav? To learn piano with Auntie Ae?”

Gavin’s whole face lights up, and he even stops shoving mozzarella into his mouth to cheer loudly. “Yeah!”

Aelin smiles again at her nephew. And then looks around the table. At her family. Filled with CEOs. A teacher is a far cry from that. Not exactly a high-powered job, but she can’t help but think how much she enjoyed playing with Gavin. She thinks she might really love it. Plus, she could do it anywhere. Like. In Terrasen. Where Rowan lives. She clears her throat and look at her mom.

“I think I might want to do that. To teach music.”

She pauses nervously as a small v forms between Evalin’s eyebrows. “Really?”

Aelin nods.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most glamorous job…” she trails off, watching her parents exchange silent glances. “But, I could start with private lessons while I work toward a teaching degree, and, I think I’d really love it.”

Evalin’s frown turns into a blinding smile as she nods at her daughter. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?” Aelin asks, positively shocked at her mother’s warm reception. “Even though it’s not being on a charity board or working with you?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Evalin replies, slightly perturbed, but Aelin can’t help herself. Her mother has been trying to marry her off to the highest bidder since she was eighteen. “Do you think I’m that much of a snob?”

Aelin snorts, ignoring the way her mother angrily spears the tomato on her plate and continues.

“It might not be _glamorous_ ,” Evalin continues, “But teaching is one of the most noble professions. You know I’ve always supported funding arts education.”

Aelin pauses, wondering if her mom has more to add, but she doesn’t. The table switches topics to their schedule for the remaining three days before they leave. Aelin is blown away. She must be gaping, because Aedion squeezes her hand under the table comfortingly.

After dinner, Gavin immediately pulls Aelin back into the music room, wanting to start his lessons as soon as possible. Aelin is helpless against her nephew and plays with him until well after his bedtime. With every replay of _Heart and Soul_ , Aelin feels her heart grow bigger, swelling with the feeling that went unidentified in her stomach for so many weeks.

By the time everyone leaves the house, Aelin feels like she’s going to explode, needing to talk to Rowan. To just blurt it out and tell him. But she knows that’s not exactly the right thing to put into a text. Instead, she gathers her strength and texts him a different question.

**I know you asked for space, but can we talk tomorrow?**

She types it quickly and then shuts her eyes quickly, as if she doesn’t look then it’ll prevent it from hurting when he doesn’t text back.

Her phone vibrates in her lap, and she garners the courage to crack an eye open and peek at his reply.

**You really wanna know what your parents talked to me about, huh?**

Aelin bites her lip, stopping the massive grin that threatens to take over her face. Her cheeks warm with a blush, realizing she’s texting with the man she _loves_.

**I mean, yes, obviously. But this isn’t about that. I swear.**

She holds her breath and waits again.

**I’m busy during lunch, but I can stop by after work?**

Aelin frowns. It’s not exactly the reply she wanted. And why would he be busy during lunch? Was he having lunch with someone else? Aelin’s heart pounds nervously. No, she needs to talk to him sooner than that. She thinks a full twenty-four hours of waiting might kill her.

But Aelin takes a deep breath, realizing that Rowan has put up with a lot more waiting for her than twenty-four hours. The least she can do is wait until he gets off work.

**We’ll be at the park tomorrow. Find me when you finish your shift?**

Rowan sends back two thumbs up emojis, and Aelin clutches the phone against her pounding chest.

Tomorrow she’s going to tell Rowan she loves him.

She falls asleep, comforted by that thought.

But when Aelin wakes up, she can’t help but groan. Rain splatters against her window, a soft grey overcast dampening her spirits as well as the ground outside.

The park still runs in the rain, but it’s absolutely no fun, since they close down any ride that could potentially be affected by the weather. Essentially, the only ride that’s open is the log flume, and Aelin knows her family won’t want to go to the park just for that.

She groans internally.

Of course this would happen.

Aelin paces around the kitchen with her coffee, hoping against all hopes that the rain will dissipate if she wills it to. But, instead of fading, the clouds darken even further, giving way to even heavier torrents.

She feels like a trapped animal.

Nothing distracts her – not playing the piano, not getting ready or putting on a full face of makeup. She’s so wound up, even a delicious lunch of her favorite potato salad and grilled chicken doesn’t help soothe her nerves.

By mid-afternoon, Aelin’s started counting down hours until Rowan’s work ends. Only four more hours. She grumbles, staring at the clock, hoping she can somehow speed up time.

“Aelin, sit down, you’re doing that anxious pacing again,” her dad chastises from behind his newspaper.

Aelin tries to pause, but she finds herself flicking her foot in tendus again, unable to still completely.

Her dad smiles softly. “Want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Evalin asks, emerging from her office to refill her mug of coffee.

“Why Aelin looks so nervous today,” Rhoe laughs, and Evalin’s eyes widen in excitement.

“Oh, did Rowan tell you?” she begins, but Rhoe’s pointed stare cuts her off.

“Tell me _what?”_ Aelin explodes, and Rhoe shakes his head and laughs softly again, hiding his face behind the paper. Evalin frowns again.

“Well, if he hasn’t told you, what are you so keyed up about?” Evalin sighs, as if she’s exasperated with her daughter. Aelin scoffs. No one is more exasperated with anyone at this moment than she is with her mother. Her secret keeping mother! 

“I’m leaving!” Aelin growls, finally snapping. She doesn’t care that it’s raining out. She needs to see Rowan right now.

“Where are you going?” Evalin shouts out after her, but Aelin is already halfway out the door. “Aelin, take a jacket! You’re going to get soaked!”

She doesn’t pause to realize her mother’s parting comment was more than right as she stumbles along the wet sand. Rain soaks through her t-shirt and pelts down on her head, wetting her hair. By the time she makes it to Playland, she’s sure she looks like some kind of drowned animal. Her sneakers squeak loudly with each step, her toes filled with water, and she doesn’t even want to imagine what her face of makeup looks like.

But she doesn’t have time to think anything through. She’s a woman on a mission.

“Aelin!” a surprised voice says, definitely shocked by her rain-drenched appearance.

In a stroke of luck, Lorcan is seated at the admissions booth. “Rowan?” she pants, hoping the rest of her question is understood.

Lorcan frowns. “Not sure.”

“What do you mean not sure? Aren’t you in control of his schedule?” Aelin knows it would be wrong, but she feels like smacking Lorcan.

She sees him hide a tiny smile as he shrugs. “He’s pulling tarps off the rides,” Lorcan explains, pointing to the sun peeking through the clouds, the rain finally coming to a stop. “He could be anywhere.”

“Useless!” Aelin shouts, agitated, and Lorcan snorts loudly as he slaps a wristband onto her hand.

“Enjoy your search,” he snickers, and Aelin huffs as she stalks across the slick grass and puddles of mud to find Rowan.

Her shoes squelch with the newly acquired mud, and she struggles not to slip as she walks at a brisk pace through the park. For the first time in her life, Aelin regrets how large the park grounds are. She circles the entire place, with no Rowan in sight. On her second loop, she goes further into the park and walks by the bumper cars and the carousel, which have no tarps on them, and deduces that she must at least be in the right direction.

Through the light drizzle of rain, the sun finally starts to shine, and Aelin smiles as she watches a rainbow take shape over the park. Her eyes follow the colorful beams, watching as they curve down, all the way to the middle of the fair grounds. She holds her breath as she spots a bright silver blonde head of hair just beyond the rainbow. Her own personal pot of gold.

A similarly rain-soaked Rowan rolls up the sides of the eating tent and affixes them to the top methodically. Aelin barely has time to process his appearance before she picks up her pace and heads toward him, a smile stretched across her lips. 

“Rowan!” she shouts, breaking into a jog.

Confused, Rowan glances over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the approaching girl. She knows she must look ridiculous, water-logged, eyes wild and beaming, but she can’t stop.

As she tries to increase the speed of her jog, her foot catches on a slick patch of grass, and Aelin shrieks loudly as she attempts to stop her skidding, but it’s no use. Aelin’s feet slide out from beneath her, and she closes her eyes tightly as she falls to the muddy ground with an unceremonious thud.

She groans, feeling the wetness soak through her shorts and underwear. She opens her eyes and realizes she’s skidded directly into a watery pool of mud.

“Aelin!” Rowan shouts, concerned. She lifts her head, laughing, as he approaches her with worry. “Are you okay?” he asks. His hands stretch out, and she takes them in hers, helping hoist herself off the ground. She shakes her head, her wet hair still stringy around her shoulders. This was not exactly the reunion she’d anticipated for them.

“I’m fine,” she laughs, trying to brush the clumps of mud from her ass and thighs. She crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously. She can’t believe this is how this is happening. But she can’t turn back. She’s here. And she’s no longer being a liar or a coward.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, wiping droplets of rain from his own hair, and Aelin takes a deep breath and centers herself.

“I told you I’d be at the park,” she says, and she watches as Rowan’s eyes crinkle in confusion.

“In the rain?” He pauses, looking her over. She doesn’t even want to think about what she looks like. She knows it’s a mess. “I just assumed—”

“I love you,” she blurts out, cutting him off.

It feels so good to say it, she barely notices Rowan’s soft lips parting in surprise. She’s not ready for him to reply, so she just keeps talking.

“I’m an idiot. And a liar. Of course I love you, Rowan.”

She can feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She knew she’d be emotional, but – gods, this is something else. She feels like she’s been possessed by some vulnerable alien. But that doesn’t stop her. She will get this out, even if it kills her.

“I knew it as soon as you kissed me that this wasn’t just for the summer. This is forever,” she barrels on as she points between the two of them. “And I know we have a lot of stuff to figure out, because we never talked about any of the logistics of anything, and I know that’s completely my fault because I was just… really at good at pretending like I didn’t have to,” she rambles, getting faster and faster as she logics her way into convincing Rowan to accept the possibility of a real relationship. “But I don’t want to leave. I’m going to teach piano, and I can do that anywhere. And I want to stay in Terrasen. With you.”

Aelin pauses, breathing hard. Her arms cross over her chest tighter, squeezing herself and acting as a defense shield against the thick silence between her and Rowan.

She looks at Rowan’s face. His eyes are still crinkled in confusion, and his lashes flutter as he blinks rapidly. His pursed lips haven’t moved since they first parted, and she can see the tension in his neck as he strains to breathe.

She can feel her heartbeat angrily thumping against her crossed arms, and she takes another deep breath.

“I really wish you’d say something,” she says quietly. “Anything.”

Rowan rubs at his face, covering his mouth, and she notices how tired he looks. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move to Terrasen,” he says finally, and Aelin feels like a dagger has pierced her straight through the chest.

Oh Gods, she’s too late.

So this is what genuine heartbreak feels like. Aelin is so busy feeling wounded, she almost doesn’t hear the rest of Rowan’s sentence.

“…because I’m going to be living in Adarlan.”

Aelin looks up and is shocked to see Rowan’s green eyes twinkling as he reveals his smile from behind his hand.

“Wait, what?”

Aelin is so confused. Her head is spinning with all kinds of thoughts.

“I didn’t want to say anything to you until it was official,” Rowan says. “But, I’m going to be working for the Ashryver Corporation as an app developer. I interviewed at lunch, and they called about an hour ago to give me my official offer.”

The pieces start to click into place. “ _That’s_ what my mom wanted to talk to you about?”

He nods, and she watches as his ears turn pink as he stares her down.

“So, I shouldn’t move to Terrasen,” Aelin says slowly, and Rowan’s smile widens as he shakes his head. “Because you’ll be in Adarlan.” She takes another long breath. “Where I live.” He takes a step forward, and her breath hitches.

“Yes.”

“Rowan, they’re making your app?” she asks, and he nods but doesn’t smile. “That’s so amazing, you should be so proud of—"

“Say it again,” he whispers, cutting her off, and she watches his eyes darken. She wonders what he wants to hear for a second, thoughts bouncing around her brain as she’s assaulted by his scent as he hovers over her.

“Hm?” She can’t think straight as she tilts her head up towards his, his lips dangerously close to hers now.

“Say it again,” he repeats and wraps his arms around her waist, sliding his hands into the mud-caked back pockets of her shorts.

_Oh._

Aelin grins and whispers back.

“I love you.”

His lips are on hers before she can finish her sentence, parted lips sliding onto her damp face as he pulls her closer. She snakes her arms around his neck and smiles against his mouth. Their kiss deepens, unencumbered by stress or worry for the first time all summer, and Aelin can’t stop herself from lifting herself up. Her legs spring off the squishy ground, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer, until she can feel his heart pounding against hers.

His lips are soft but demanding against hers, and they feel like coming home. She kisses him harder, his mouth pliable under hers.

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever felt this happy ever.

As Rowan’s tongue swipes against hers, she clutches at him tighter. He leans her back, and she’s so consumed in the feeling of him against her that she barely notices that he’s placed her down on the closest table inside the eating tent. His hands drag upward and knot themselves into her wet hair, and she parts her lips further, breathing him in. She wants to live in this moment forever.

All too soon, Rowan finally pulls back. He pulls his wet hands from her hair and slides them to her cheeks. They’re cold against her flushed cheeks, warmed from his thorough kisses, and she can’t help but smile widely at him. His face reflects the same expression back at her. Two grinning idiots.

As if he can’t bear to apart from her for too long, Rowan leans in again, pecking a flurry of kisses all over her face – her cheeks and forehead and eyes, and finally one last lingering kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” Aelin says again. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop saying it.

“I love you, too,” Rowan says, his voice hoarse and breathy.

Rowan ducks his head, as if to kiss her again, but they’re interrupted by a loud whistle. They look over their shoulders, and see a frowning Lorcan, but there’s no real ire in his expression.

“If you two are done making out on my table, Rowan, can you head to the ticket booth to do your job?” Lorcan rests his hands on his hips, trying his very hardest to look annoyed, but Aelin can see the barest of smiles threatening to break through.

“Yes sir,” Rowan answers with a nod. He looks at Aelin as she hops off the table and links her arm with his, leaning into his side. He immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders, neither of them anxious to let the other go. “What are you going to do with the rest of your afternoon?” he asks.

“Anxious to get rid of me that soon?” she snorts.

Rowan looks shocked. “No! Of course not, I just meant—”

Aelin laughs and kisses his hand, which is tangled with hers. “I know, I’m kidding.” She pauses. “I thought I could hang out with you until your shift is done?” she asks nervously. “And then, we can go back to my house and tell my parents about us.”

Rowan’s smile nearly blinds her. “Yeah?” He squeezes her hand.

“Yeah,” she smiles back.

“And then I should shower. Because I’m covered in mud,” Aelin snorts, and Rowan laughs loudly and tugs her closer.

“I love you, even covered in mud,” he says.

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, eyes wide in wonder. How could she have kept herself from feeling this all summer?

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, brushing a clump of mud from her shorts.

Because it’s a slow park day, Rowan is blessed to be the only one taking tickets, which means that Aelin can sit next to him, as close as she wants. His thumb rubs up and down the back of her soft skin, and Aelin only holds his hand tighter as they make their way to the booth. She’s not letting go of him any time soon.

Rowan pauses a few feet away from admissions, and his hand becomes a vice grip around hers.

“What?” Aelin leans into his side further, her chin resting against his arm.

“Uh…” he starts, sounding nervous, his eyes flicking from Aelin out to the parking lot.

“Oh!” Aelin is shocked to see her entire family, walking toward them.

Rowan starts to remove his hand from hers, but Aelin shakes her head and holds it tighter.

“Are you sure?” Rowan asks, his eyes locked on Aedion for some reason. “I wasn’t anticipating telling your brother about us until we were married and I was a more permanent fixture.”

Aelin’s mouth drops. “Aedion likes you.”

Rowan shakes his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Aelin asks, curious.

Rowan groans. “I may have overheard a conversation where he… wasn’t so enthused about our relationship.”

Aelin freezes and stares at him. “You came that night. To pick me up from Aedion’s.”

Rowan nods, grimacing slightly as he tracks Aelin’s approaching family, nearly to the entrance now.

“And you left…”

Rowan laughs, but it sounds pained. “And I’m now remembering all the reasons we didn’t tell your parents in the first place.” He pauses. “Maybe we should keep this a secret for a little longer.”

Aelin stops them, pulling him so he’s facing her and looking away from her family. “Rowan,” she begins emphatically. “What Aedion said was horrible, and if I’d known that you heard it, I would have told you a lot sooner that he didn’t mean it. But even if he did, it doesn’t matter. Because I want to be with you. Because you’re so much better than all of them. You’ve worked so hard for everything you have, and you’re so incredibly talented and kind and _real_. And I love you.”

Rowan looks like he wants to protest, but he begrudgingly releases a small, “Fine.”

Aelin is so taken with his acceptance that she can’t resist wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. He melts into her, arms locked around each other in a tight embrace, until they hear a throat clearing beside them.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” Aedion’s low voice jokes, and despite Rowan stiffening beneath her, Aelin presses one more kiss to his lips as she flicks off her brother. Aedion cackles loudly.

“Aelin!” her mother cries out. She sounds so horrified and shocked, that Aelin can’t help but finally pull away to explain herself. “You’re covered in mud!” her mother chastises, and Aelin cannot believe that her mom just walked up to her kissing Rowan, and _that_ is what she has to say.

“I fell?” Aelin says by way of explanation. Evalin shakes her head disapprovingly, and Aelin realizes that there are some things her mom will always care about – like her appearance, and being polite, and manners. But, apparently, Aelin is free to live her life the way she wants to, and somehow that realization is worth everything.

“Rowan,” Evalin says with a smile, ignoring the flaming blush crawling up his cheeks and ears. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Rowan smiles bashfully and tucks his chin into his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rhoe leans in conspiratorially. “Make sure you counter offer their salary. They’ll lowball you every time.”

Evalin looks positively offended at her husband’s comment. “We would never! We value all our employees and pay them _very_ fairly,” she says, and Rhoe snickers again, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Aelin can’t believe that no one has commented on her tongue being shoved down Rowan’s throat mere minutes ago. And she’s even more surprised when Evalin tells Rowan he should come over for a celebratory dinner after work.

“I’d love to,” he accepts with a shy smile, and Aelin can’t resist kissing him again. This time on his shoulder.

Surprisingly, it’s Gavin who is the first to speak up.

“Auntie Ae, did you just _kiss_ Rowan?” His little face crinkles in confusion. He has a moment of understanding, and his eyes widen with excitement. “Is Rowan going to be my Uncle?”

She’s not sure how to answer, and she can feel her cheeks warming under her family’s scrutiny, smiles hidden into each other’s shoulders as Aelin struggles with how to answer her nephew.

“Probably,” Rowan says with a shrug as Aelin answers, “Yes.”

“Probably?” Aelin gapes at him as Rowan gapes right back, repeating her words at her. “YES?!”

Aedion laughs loudly as he scoops Gavin into his arms. “Do you think they’ve always been this dysfunctional?” He looks at the couple stammering and blushing in front of him and then back to the small child in his arms. Gavin, of course, doesn’t know what his father means, but nods seriously regardless. “Let’s go get some cotton candy.”

Gavin shouts his affirmations, sprinting into the park, the rest of the family following close behind. No one comments when Aelin takes a seat next to Rowan in the ticket booth, but Rhoe winks at his daughter.

Aelin is grateful for the slow trickle of patrons, leaning over to kiss Rowan whenever she feels like it.

By the time Rowan’s shift ends, she can feel her lips starting to chap with how often they’ve been attached to his, but she can’t bring herself to care at all.

Aelin is reluctant to leave Rowan’s side when they get back to her house, but she knows she really does need to shower. She still has dried patches of mud on her legs, and her hair is a tangled stringy mess.

She showers as quickly as she can, and when she returns downstairs she’s shocked to see Rowan laughing with her entire family, as if he’s fit there the whole time. She doesn’t know what she was ever worried about. Everything seems so stupid now, looking back. How much pain she caused them both for absolutely nothing. Because of her own stupid insecurities. Because of her need for her parents’ approval. She’s so incredibly grateful Rowan is as forgiving as he is. She’s not sure she would have been as kind to herself.

Her mood lifts completely as Rowan smiles brightly when he spots her, freshly showered and in clean clothes.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Evalin finally asks, of course, just as Aelin takes a sip of her wine. Aelin splutters, coughing wildly as she chokes on the alcohol, and she glares at Rowan, who smirks beside her, completely unaffected as he rubs her back.

“When did I catch you climbing out of Aelin’s window again?” Lysandra asks Rowan nonchalantly, and then it’s Rowan’s turn to choke. “Must have been back in June…”

“Oh Gods,” Rowan begins to apologize to Aelin’s parents, who are resisting laughing themselves.

“I saw him only about two weeks of being here, I think,” Rhoe finally pipes up. “He didn’t even see me on the patio.”

Rowan’s face is beet red as he tries to hide it in Aelin’s shoulder, and she can feel herself reddening, too. This is a nightmare. But the best kind.

She leans into Rowan reassuringly and smiles when she feels his lips brush across the top of her head.

After dinner, Rowan politely thanks her parents, and asks Aelin if she wants to go out to the beach to stargaze. Aelin nods enthusiastically, taking his hand and letting him drag her out to the edge of the sand. She pulls the oversized pool chaise and leans it all the way back, motioning for Rowan to sit.

He does, and she climbs onto his lap, relishing the way his arms immediately circle her and pull her close. Because that’s something he can do now, even in sight of her parents. She leans her head against his chest and sighs happily.

“I’m sorry,” Aelin whispers.

“For what?” he asks, and Aelin tilts her head up, brushing her lips against his stubble as she continues.

“Everything.” She laughs. “If you’d told me I was too late, I would have accepted it, you know. I put you through hell this summer.”

Rowan laughs softly and pulls her closer. “If this is hell, I think I’m doing okay.” He pauses and looks at the sky. “I don’t’ know if you can understand this, but… I’ve never quite felt like I was good enough. The first time I stepped into this house, I’ve never been more terrified of anything before. The level of inadequacy…” He laughs at himself. “I was so afraid I was going to fuck this whole thing up. My job. My life, pretty much.” He pauses again, thinking hard. Aelin wants to interrupt, but she lets him finish. It’s so rare that Rowan opens up about anything. And she wants to hear every single word of his inner most thoughts. “But, you changed that. Tonight, I sat with your parents and I honestly thought we’d be talking about my job, but all we talked about was you. They wanted to know _why_ we kept it a secret. Because they couldn’t fathom us thinking they wouldn’t approve of me. And I’ve never felt like I belonged more. I belong with you.” She relishes in his words and nods. She feels the exact same way. And she tells him as much.

They sit together, staring at the sky for a while, kissing occasionally, happy to just _be_ , until Rowan’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he pulls it out. He snorts and shows Aelin the text from Manon.

**U ALIVE?!**

He leans in and kisses Aelin. She’s sure it’s supposed to be a quick kiss, but she can’t resist deepening it. She smiles against his lips as she sees the camera flash go off behind her closed lids.

He sends the picture of them smiling into each other’s mouths as a text reply to Manon, who immediately replies with a vomit emoji.

**GROSS.**

“You do belong,” Aelin says, and Rowan smiles softly again. She’ll tell him again and again if that’s what it takes.

“So, Uncle Rowan, huh?” he teases her, chuckling as he slides his phone back into his shorts, and Aelin shoots him an uncomfortable glance.

“Yes,” she replies, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan leans in and kisses her again.

If this is the beginning of forever, she’ll take it.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks. Just an epilogue after this. Our Cruel Summer has come to an end (90k odd words later). I just wanted to thank everyone so much again for spending time reading, commenting, and messaging about this story. When I first started writing it in April, I had no idea I would come to get to know so many of you, and it’s been the most rewarding thing to be part of a fandom again. Taylor Swift hearts to all of you. xo.


	26. Epilogue

It seems that fate enjoys playing cosmic jokes on Rowan Whitethorn when it comes to the first day of summer.

He and Aelin were supposed to take off for Terrasen yesterday, in order to make it to opening day at the park. Then, after closing, he was going to take Aelin down to the water, beneath the docks, where they’d kissed for the first time. It was going to be perfect. Just the two of them, reunited by the water, watching the sun dip below the horizon, ready for a new summer of memories – this time to be made together. But today was a piece of shit, and everything had gone to shambles.  
  
With the app formally launching this week, Rowan’s office was in crunch mode. He tried to escape, but was held back with last minute bugs to fix. He sent Aelin off, telling her he’d meet her there as soon as he was freed from work. But before he knew it, yesterday turned into noon today. And somehow noon turned into five. And then to six. At seven, Rowan finally put his foot down and insisted he would answer any questions from the road. He’d be working remotely all summer anyway. He’d dictate code for them over the phone, if they needed. And they had.  
  
His front dash rings with an incoming call from Aelin as he speeds along the interstate, praying to the gods he doesn’t get pulled over. Although with the way his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised.  
  
He sighs loudly in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Aelin’s sleepy voice comes through the speakers. It’s already midnight, and he’s sure she’s about to fall asleep any second.

“I’ve had about six calls with Darrow,” Rowan sighs. He doesn’t really mind – he loves his job, and loves being part of this team. But, his boss’s perfectionist tendencies have him working long after the clock stops. “I’m so tired,” he complains.  
  
“Oh no,” Aelin coddles him. “How far away are you?”  
  
Rowan glances at his navigation.  
  
“Three hours out. If I don’t hit any more snags.”  
  
Aelin chuckles softly. “Yeah, you didn’t forget anything else important, did you?”  
  
Rowan groans, thinking of his absolute incompetence as a human. Maybe if he’d been less flustered about rushing out of work and heading to Terrasen, he wouldn’t have made this insane mistake. Nearly an hour on the road, Rowan realized he’d forgotten the most important item he needed this summer. Unconsciously, Rowan pats at his pants and finds the lump in his pocket easily. He swallows thickly. His entire plan would have been ruined without that tiny box.  
  
Unable to tell her what he really went back for, he lied and told Aelin he’d forgotten his wallet. She seemed to believe him, but he was now running two hours behind.  
  
He picks up his pace even more.  
  
“I miss you,” he sighs, and he can hear the crinkling of Aelin’s starchy sheets beneath her head as she rolls to her side.  
  
“You’ll have me soon enough,” she laughs.  
  
“I wish I could have you right now,” he whines, and he can hear the small hitch in Aelin’s breath before she replies.  
  
“Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?” Her voice is low and breathy, and he can’t help but groan her name in frustration. He’s been working his ass off prepping for this app launch. And with Aelin taking classes and studying for boards on top of teaching, they’ve both been far too tired to do anything but curl up in bed and sleep. Two exhausted ships passing in the night. Two exhausted, and clearly horny, ships.  
  
Rowan swears as arousal courses through his strained muscles.  
  
“Should I pull over?” he asks.

If Aelin wants help getting off through the phone, he’s not _not_ participating. Rowan looks ahead to see when the next exit is. He’ll need to find somewhere dark and secluded fast. But Aelin hesitates, and he can practically see her flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she chews on her bottom lip as she debates her answer.  
  
“No,” she finally replies, resigned. “Just. Drive fast.”  
  
Rowan taps the accelerator a little harder, pushing his new car another few miles above the speed limit.  
  
“On it.”  
  
“Rowan?” She breathes softly into the receiver. “I don’t care how late it is, wake me up when you get here.”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” he laughs.  
  
“Love you,” she mumbles sleepily.  
  
Rowan blessedly doesn’t get pulled over, and somehow he makes up an entire hour, pulling up the long driveway to Ashryver Estate just after 2am. He turns the headlights off quickly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone.  
  
The house looks as imposing as always, its wide balconies and oversized windows glowing under the outdoor lights. But Rowan can’t help but think how different his life is from a single year ago. For one, he and Aelin will be sleeping in her room together, with the complete awareness and approval of her parents.  
  
Rowan assumed it would be weird for them to be in the house, so they rented a place of their own, but Rhoe and Evalin insisted they spend at least their first night with them. At least. He supposes when he’s been living with their daughter since last Yulemas and asked for her father’s approval of their marriage a few days later, it can’t be that weird. But still, Rowan’s excited to have their own place. Albeit. A much smaller. Less expensive place.

A large yawn rips its way from Rowan’s mouth, and he decides to leave his bag in the bag seat. He’ll get it in the morning. For now, he just wants to take off his work clothes and get into bed with Aelin.

But of course, nothing about today is easy. Rowan lifts the front mat, expecting the key beneath, but it’s missing. He checks his phone to see if Aelin told him they moved it elsewhere. But no. It’s supposed to be there for him. He reaches under a potted plant just to make sure. But still. No key. He jiggles the doorknob, hoping against all hopes that in this small beach town maybe they left the door unlocked for him. But it remains unmovable. Shit. The gods truly are against him.  
  
Rowan flicks his cellphone light on, searching the small path that leads to the backyard. Thorns from the overgrown rose bushes scrape his arms, and he hisses as one catches his skin. Fuck this day. Once he makes it safely to the back patio, he attempts the sliding door, but of course, it is locked, too.  
  
Rowan glances at the rose trellis, leading up to the second floor balcony he knows so well. It’s been a while since he climbed it, but he thinks he can. He grasps at the holds above his head and pulls himself up, one foothold at a time. As he launches himself over the railing and onto the balcony, he prays to every god he knows that Aelin has left her window unlocked. It doesn’t budge.

Crouched uncomfortably, Rowan lifts his tender knuckles and knocks against the glass of the large window. He watches as Fleetfoot lifts her head, wondering where the knocking is coming from. She spots Rowan and thumps her tail against Aelin’s fluffy comforter, but doesn’t bark or come to greet him. She’s not exactly the best guard dog.

Rowan knocks again, this time a little louder, and he watches as Aelin sleepily rouses from her slumber. He knocks a third time, and Aelin looks around, confused, obviously thinking that he’d woken her from _inside_ the room. He waves from his crouch as she finally locates him on the other side of the glass.

She pads barefoot across the room and unlatches the window, which finally swings open easily.

“Feeling nostalgic?” she asks, her eyes squinting with unreleased laughter.

“Ha ha.” Aelin is the only one laughing as she helps Rowan through the window, but he can’t help but smile at the way her arms circle his waist and pull him towards the bed at the center of the room. “Where’d the front door key go?”

“Oh no, I forgot to put it back? I must have been more tired than I thought…”

He nods, and her arms squeeze his waist tighter, apologizing with her touch. A shiver runs up Rowan’s spine as her warm hands push the hem of his shirt up his back.

“If you’re too tired,” Rowan begins, but his words are muffled by Aelin tugging his shirt up and over his head. “This can wait until tomorrow…” Her fingers splay across his bare chest, and her lips brush against his shoulder, her eyes dark with want as she insists.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” she insists, tilting her chin up towards his.

Rowan lowers his head to hers, and she hums happily as his mouth caresses hers. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lets Aelin lead the way, crawling onto the bed on top of her. Aelin’s hands immediately go for his belt buckle, and he helps her, kicking off his pants one leg at a time as he pushes her nightgown over her head.

Clothes scatter across Aelin’s bedroom floor as the pair climb under the covers. Fleetfoot dodges his flying briefs with a loud huff and slinks under the bed, causing both Aelin and Rowan to laugh. But they aren’t distracted by the dog’s antics for very long. Within seconds, the pair is wrapped up in each other, finally after so long, relishing in the feel of being skin to skin. Rowan’s hands skim up her thighs, and he kisses every inch of her neck and shoulders he can reach. He has every intention of taking his time and worshipping her body, something they haven’t had the privilege of doing in weeks, but Aelin has other thoughts in mind.

She guides his hand between her legs, showing him how much she wants him, moisture dripping onto his fingers before he’s barely even touched her.

“Please, Rowan,” she moans, and Rowan chuckles into her cheek, whispering into her ear with a quiet. “Bossy.”

“You like it,” she says, smirking softly.

He does. He loves when she takes charge. But he doesn’t let it happen for very long. Before she can finish her sentence, Rowan lines himself up with her and slides into her with a deep thrust.

Aelin gasps and wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass as he sits back on his heels and grasps her hips. He’s overwhelmed, as he always is when he first enters Aelin. Warmth spreads through his body as he adjusts their position and pace, lifting her hips off the mattress to meet him as he kneels in front of her. He loves her this way, splayed out for him, her hair a tangled, golden mess haloed around her head. She breathes heavily with each torturously slow movement of his hips. She bites down on her lip, but releases a too loud, breathy moan regardless.

Rowan shushes her through his chuckles, loving that even after a year, this hasn’t remotely gotten old.

“C’mere.” She reaches out for him, and Rowan is helpless before her commands. He lowers her hips and leans down to kiss her. Fingers tug at his hair, keeping him pressed against her face. Even when their kiss breaks, they’re content to just breathe into each other’s mouths as he moves inside her slowly and deliberately, savoring each moment.

Rowan increases his pace, feeling them both on the brink, Aelin’s nails digging into his back, his lips at her neck – when the doorbell rings.

They both freeze. Rowan stills his hips, and Aelin’s gaze swings to the door.

“Was that _our_ house?” she asks, eyes wide. The doorbell is followed by several knocks.

“Uh, I think so,” Rowan says, glancing at the clock, which now reads 3 am. Who the _hell_ could that be? Fleetfoot pokes her nose out from under the bed and slinks towards the door to sniff under it.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll go away?” Aelin whimpers, grasping his neck tighter. “I’m so close,” she half cries-half laughs. Rowan joins her.

“Me too,” he says, letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

“Just finish quickly,” she says, tilting her hips toward his, and Rowan chuckles into her skin.

Rowan refuses to move as he hears two pairs of footsteps coming down from the third floor. Aelin’s parents.

They listen as the front door opens, but are unable to pick out any words. The door closes just as fast, and he can feel Aelin relax and push her hips against his as her parents make their way back upstairs. He finally gives in and starts moving again, much to both their relief.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Um, Aelin?” Evalin calls from the other side of the door, accompanied with a quick knock, and Rowan has the good sense to roll off to the other side of the bed, grumbling the entire way, upset to be cockblocked as Aelin tosses on her nightgown. Whatever _was_ happening is officially over now. Rowan briefly wonders if it’s a cursed day as Aelin swings her door open.

“Is everything okay?” she asks her mom breathlessly, and Rowan tucks himself further under the blanket, willing his still prominent erection to subside quickly.

Suddenly, two cops emerge, and Aelin crosses her arms over her chest, backing up into the darkness of her room. Rowan would like to throw a robe over her, too, by the way the two cops are looking at her, but he can’t exactly go anywhere right now.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the shorter of the two begins. “But we were notified by your neighbor of a breaking and entering? We wanted your permission to sweep your room for any intruders.”

Rowan groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the pillow as Aelin snorts.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time, officers,” Aelin says politely. “But, uh, there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

Her eyes flick to Rowan’s, who is still under the covers, but based on the state of the pair of them, there’s little question as to what they’ve been up to.

“Let me guess?” the other cop snickers. “Intruder?”

Rowan waves, and Rhoe and Evalin smile as they wave back.

“Rowan, when did you get in?” Rhoe asks, failing to hide his smile behind his hand.

But Rowan’s fairly certain this day could not get any worse. He’s still erect beneath the covers, and completely naked, and his nearly naked girlfriend is being interrogated by the cops and her parents. He wants to die.

“I forgot to leave the key out for my boyfriend,” Aelin explains. “So, he climbed up the trellis into my room.”

The cops apologize for the late-night intrusion, and Rhoe finally laughs fully. “As you were…”

They close the door with a soft click, and Rowan groans, falling back onto the pillow as Rhoe and Evalin head back upstairs, taking Fleetfoot with them. 

“Intruder,” Aelin laughs as she closes her bedroom door. “The Cortlands would never have called the cops.”

Rowan perks up at that. “Oh yeah, who’d they sell to?”

“I don’t kno-oww!” Aelin hisses in pain and clutches at her foot. “Ow, what the hell did I just step on?” she cries again, stumbling her way over to the light switch. “Was that your belt buckle? Shit, that hurt.”

Rowan squints as the bright bulb illuminates the room, and his heart stops as he sees what Aelin holds in her hand. Aelin stares with wonder at the tiny box that he’s managed to keep from her since he purchased it last December. Six months living together, and she never suspected once. In his haste to disrobe earlier, it must have fallen out of his pocket. He forgot it was even in there. He’s a fucking idiot.

Aelin’s jaw drops as she looks from the box up to Rowan, her blue gold eyes swimming with awe and confusion.

“Rowan?”

Her voice sounds so small and timid and so un-Aelin like, and Rowan’s stomach drops. Does she not want this?

“I swear to the gods, it was going to be perfect,” Rowan says, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He watches as Aelin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He closes his eyes and imagines the scene he’d wanted so badly. ”I had it all planned out for today. But, then today happened.” He He sighs loudly.” Six months of waiting… to find your ring on the fucking floor.”

He hates the spike of insecurity and flagellation that fills his brain, ready to convince him he’s useless. He’s gotten better about his negative self-talk over the last year, but sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Six months?” she asks, fiddling with the box in her fingers.

“Yulemas shopping,” Rowan chuckles to himself, but there’s no humor to be found there.

“Rowan.” She repeats his name, nothing more than a whisper from the other side of the room.

“I used to feel like the lesser party in this relationship. And I swear, I don’t feel like that anymore. But, the way this has happened, I’m feeling pretty useless. That, or this proposal is cursed.”

“Can I see it?” she whispers, and Rowan suddenly feels even more nervous, if that were even possible.

He nods, feeling the strain in his throat as it bobs uncomfortably, his throat suddenly dry.

She cracks the box open, and Aelin breathes in sharply as she picks up the emerald, flanked by two smaller diamonds, and laid into a platinum band. It had cost two full months of his paycheck, but he’d seen it and immediately known it was meant to sit on Aelin’s finger for the rest of her life.

She approaches the bed slowly, and his body warms as her awed expression turns into a brilliant smile. He loves when she looks at him like that. Like he’s special. She straddles his lap, bringing one knee to either side of his waist and wraps one arm around his neck, the other cradling the box in her hand still.

Her lips press against this over and over again as she whispers between kisses, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Rowan’s heart pumping wildly as he pulls back to look at her.

“Yeah?” he asks, and she replies quickly.

“Oh yeah.” She grins and kisses him again. “And if you want to do your plan tomorrow, I am all yours,” she says, and Rowan’s heart feels like it’s going to explode of joy.

He slides the ring onto her finger. It looks just as perfect there as he’d imagined, and he can’t resist perssing the newly jeweled hand against his thrumming heartbeat.

“I’ll give it back in the morning,” she says, a small tear trickling down her cheek.

She can’t stop smiling, and neither can Rowan, both of them mumbling “I love you,” over and over as Aelin climbs into his lap to finish what they started earlier in the evening.

~*~

Rowan wakes before Aelin, which is highly unusual, but she did say she was tired. He glances at the glittering gems on her finger and kisses it softly. He can’t believe this beautiful creature is actually going to marry him.

“Mmm,” she smiles back in her sleep, and he can’t resist pressing his lips against hers.

As he distracts her with sleepy kisses, he slides the ring off her finger, and she pouts immediately. “I’ll give it back soon, I promise,” he says softly, and her smile returns. The ring finds its way back into the small velvet box without any problems, and Rowan pulls on clothes from the floor and pockets it immediately. “Coffee?” he whispers into her ear, and Aelin nods, eyes still closed.

Rowan heads downstairs and grabs his bag from his car, and decides to shower before bringing Aelin coffee. After working all day, then sitting in a car for nine hours, and then engaging in sexual activity for most of the night, he could really use a shower. Plus, maybe he can tempt Aelin into joining him, he thinks.

Upstairs, though, Aelin is already in the bathroom and looking worse for wear. Dark circles rim her undereye, and her cheeks looks pale and sweaty. She flushes the toilet and walks slowly to the sink to rinse out her mouth.

Rowan drops his bag from his shoulder and rushes to her. “Aelin? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “I think you might be right about the cursed proposal. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, splashing water onto her ashen face. “A few of my students had this stomach thing, and I thought I escaped it, but…”

She stops and breathe slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes flick to Rowan’s in the mirror, looking disappointed and upset.

“Hey, hey,” he reassures her, pushing back her damp hair from her clammy forehead. “You never have to apologize for getting sick.”

Aelin had also caught the flu from one of her students in January, a terrible cold in March, and strep throat that turned into an ear infection in April. Rowan was extremely grateful she’d already gotten the chicken pox otherwise their May would have been really upsetting. It turns out Aelin’s immune system kind of sucks.

“Good thing is it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug, so we can just push until tomorrow?” she says hopefully.

Rowan kisses the top of her head. “Get back in bed. We’ll worry about _that_ when you’re feeling better.”

Aelin grumbles all the way back to bed, but she must be feeling extremely sick if she followed his directions so quickly. Aelin is one of those suffer in silence such people, who likes to think that if she doesn’t acknowledge not feeling well then she won’t be sick. As if she ignores her problems they’ll cease to exist. Rowan has to admit, when he discovered that he was fairly relieved. He’d thought it only applied to him. Oh how wrong he was. If the fact that she climbs into bed without any hesitation is any indication, she currently feels like shit.

“Who gets sick during the summer?” she complains to herself, but when Rowan comes out of the shower, she’s already fast asleep again.

He wanders downstairs to grab coffee for himself and is only slightly surprised to see the whole family there.

“Uncle Rowan!” Gavin cheers, throwing himself around Rowan’s thighs.

“Hey, bud, you’re getting really tall,” Rowan laughs. “And strong,” he continues, realizing he’s unable to walk with the little boy grasping his legs.

“Where’s Auntie Ae?” Gavin asks, his blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rowan recognizes that look. It’s the look of a man obsessed with Aelin Ashryver. He doesn’t particularly blame the child.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rowan answers the little boy, who immediately looks disappointed.

“Someone wore her out?” Lysandra jests, welcoming Rowan with a warm hug and a nudge to his ribs.

“Very funny.” Rowan says, though his tone lacks any humor.

Aedion snorts. “Come on, it’s a little funny. And a great story. Locked out, and then interrupted by the cops while banging?”

Rhoe chokes on his coffee. “I don’t think I used the word banging.”

“No, you used the words ‘being intimate’ which is somehow _much_ grosser,” Aedion laughs again, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Rowan’s cheeks are burning, he can feel the flames go all the way up to his ears. This is why he’s grateful he and Aelin have their own rental they can check into tomorrow.

He ignores the conversation at the table and instead lets them know Aelin isn’t feeling well.

“So she’s not coming to the park today?” Gavin pouts.

“I don’t think so, but maybe tomorrow?”

Appeased, Gavin rushes off to play with Fleetfoot..

Rowan wishes the family a good time at the park and heads back upstairs, wanting to check in on his sick girlfriend. Wait, no. Not girlfriend. Fiancée. He grins at that.

Upstairs, he climbs into bed next to Aelin’s slumbering form. She immediately curls into his thigh, and his mouth twitches upward when she sighs his name in her sleep. His fingers run through her hair, and he basks in a moment of silent happiness. In sickness and in health, right?  
  
While Aelin sleeps, Rowan opens his laptop to see about a hundred emails waiting for him. He answers them dutifully as he sips his coffee. His work only halts when Aelin launches herself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep. He itches to help her, but he’s learned from previous experience that Aelin does not like to be coddled when she’s sick. Instead, he opens her windows to let some fresh air in. The room fills quickly with the crisp scent of salty sea air traveling on a breeze.  
  
The shower turns on in the bathroom, and Rowan returns to his never-ending emails while he waits for her to emerge. A cloud of steam billows around her skin as she opens the door. Her skin has regained some color, a pink flush to her cheeks and her eyes look brighter.  
  
“Napping helped?”  
  
“How long was I out for?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she curls back up next to him. He glances at his watch.  
  
“Only a few hours. How are you feeling?”  
  
“Like crap,” she laughs. “You should go downstairs. You do _not_ want to catch this.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Rowan says, stroking her cheek. “I wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a few days.”  
  
Aelin shivers and nuzzles further into his side. “You’ll mind it when you’re hunched over the toilet.”  
  
She sniffs the air and a greyish pallor takes over her complexion.  
  
“If nothing else, can you take your coffee cup downstairs. The smell of anything food-related is…”  
  
“Not good?” he asks, and as Aelin goes to shake her head, she rushes into the bathroom again and slams the door shut.  
  
As loathe as he is to leave her, Aelin is right. He can’t afford to get sick right now. So, Rowan takes his laptop out to the patio with Fleetfoot keep him company as he finishes his work.  
  
When Aelin finally makes her way downstairs at the end of the day, she looks significantly better.  
  
The whole family sits at the dinner table, and their heads swivel to the disheveled blonde, still wearing her pajamas.  
  
“You look like you’re feeling better.” Aelin nods in affirmation and Rowan breathes a sigh of relief that it seems the worst has passed. “Can I make you toast, Fireheart?” Evalin asks her daughter, who wrinkles her nose at the large dinner spread on the table.  
  
“No, I need something cold for my throat.” She pats at her neck. “Do we have any ice cream?”  
  
Rhoe laughs. “Yeah, she’s feeling better.”  
  
“Freezer,” Evalin directs her, and Aelin makes herself a bowl of mint ice cream quickly before taking a seat on Rowan’s knee.  
  
Rowan looks at Aelin’s empty ring finger as she eats. He can’t wait for tomorrow. Can’t wait to make it official.  
  
~*~  
  
“Twenty-four-hour bug, my ass,” Aelin frowns as she exits the bathroom the next morning. She’d been so convinced it’d passed when her ice cream stayed down last night. Apparently not. “This is the worst.”

Rowan pats the fluffy comforter next to him, and Aelin crawls on top, cuddling into his side like a cat. It’s been a long time since she felt this sick before. And she had the flu earlier this year. Stupid music students and their germy fingers!

“Rowan,” she whispers, wondering if she should admit what she’s about to admit. “I’m starting to believe in the curse.”

Rowan snorts too loudly, taking her comment as a joke, but she’s not so sure. Three days in a row his plans have gone to shit, and Aelin is starting to feel antsy to have that stunning ring on her finger again. She missed its weight as soon as he pulled it off yesterday, and she’s ready for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Her.

As if he senses her agitation, Rowan drags his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp and playing with the strands like he knows she likes. Her eyes flutter close, and within a few minutes, she’s asleep again.  
  
Aelin wakes again in the late afternoon feeling groggy but with an even stomach. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth and heads downstairs, where Rowan is lounging out on the back patio. His computer glasses are perched on his nose as his fingers type a mile a minute, probably fixing some bug that Darrow couldn’t reprogram. His brows are furrowed, and he bites his lip – his concentrating face.

He finally looks up as she approaches the doorway, and she watches as his wrinkled forehead smooths out, his serious face replaced by one of delight. It makes her heart beat faster.

“You must be feeling a lot better than this morning if you’re looking at me like that,” Rowan says, closing his computer and standing to greet her. His arms welcome her with a warm embrace, and she inhales deeply as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her close.

“Is everyone at the park?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow suggestively, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan’s eyes darken.

“What happened to being concerned about me getting sick?” he asks as his fingers trail patterns against the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Who said we had to fuck face-to-face?” Aelin says, tugging his shirt with her hands. “Just bend me over the kitchen island.”

“Aelin,” he groans, pressing his face into the top of her head. She can feel his chest vibrate with laughter against hers, letting her know that her idea is being rejected. But if the other things moving against her are any indication, he’s not completely disinterested.

“As tempting as that sounds,” he begins, and by the look on his face, she knows he’s been thoroughly tempted, “I was kind of hoping not to be interrupted the next time we do it. If you’re really feeling better, though, maybe we should move into our own place tonight?” 

Aelin grins excitedly. As much as she loves Ashryver Estate, she’s thrilled she and Rowan will have their own place this summer. Where they can be as loud as they want. And desecrate every single surface.

It takes them barely thirty minutes to pack, and Aelin calls her parents to let them know they won’t be there when they return. Aelin assures her parents she feels better, that the bug has run its course, and apologizes for sneaking out while they’re gone.

She and Rowan pull up to the small brown house nearly simultaneously. It’s not on the beach, about a fifteen-minute drive from Aelin’s parents, and about a ten-minute walk to Lysandra and Aedion’s, on a small residential street dotted with lush green trees and bright verdant lawns. They drop their bags in the foyer and immediately wander around the place, taking in the cozy, beach town vibes.

The backyard is perfect, and Rowan opens the screened in porch door for Fleetfoot to run around the wide gated lawn. At the center is a long, narrow pool, which glistens a bright turquoise. Aelin can’t wait to spend her summer lounging in it.

As they make their way back into the house, they finally make their way to the kitchen. Its immaculate marble counters are dotted with decorative bowls of lemons, and Aelin notices Rowan nearly drooling at the Viking double ovens. But what has her attention is right in the middle of the room.

Rowan follows her gaze and his green eyes darken, a shade of forest that she knows means trouble for her. The pair practically race to the kitchen island, and they make good on Aelin’s earlier suggestion, well into the evening.

~*~

Aelin wakes in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling overheated in her own skin. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember what about. She looks down at a dreaming Rowan for comfort, his eyelashes twitching against his tanned cheeks, and feels her heart swell in her chest. She loves this man so much. She can’t believe she’s going to be his wife. Years ago, when Chaol had thrown around the word “marriage,” she’d flinched. Literally. Flinched. Now, she aches to let everyone know that this man is going to be her husband.

She leans down and kisses his bare shoulder. “Rowan,” she whispers against his skin, and he stirs slightly. “Rowan, wake up.”

He startles awake, bolting upright faster than he has any right to do, and looks her over seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, and he exhales quickly.

“Why am I waking up then?” he asks, looking at the clock. It’s barely past 4 am.

“I know you wanted to do your perfect proposal, but…” Rowan’s face pales in the moonlight, and Aelin reaches out to reassure him quickly. “I don’t need a perfect proposal. I knew when we left here last summer that you were it for me. You’re kind and funny, and you understand my terrible humor without making me feel stupid about it.” Rowan smiles at that one, making her stomach flutter. “You’re ambitious and proud, but you have never asked me to change what I want or to make myself bigger or smaller. You just love … me.” He swallows and nods. He does. She knows he does. Which is why, she barrels on, confessing what she’s been ruminating over the last two days in bed.

“I want to marry you _so much_ ,” she breathes, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotion. “And even though I don’t know what your plans were, I know this wasn’t even close to what you imagined. But,” she pauses and bites at the skin on her lip as Rowan leans closer. “I can’t imagine us doing anything traditionally, can you?” He shakes his head and rubs his thumb against her bottom lip, unhooking it from her tooth. She smiles at the gesture. “I loved my accidental proposal,” she says more boldly, “And I want to tell everyone I know immediately. I want to have a celebratory dinner with all our friends, and I…” Her voice cracks again as a rogue tear falls from her eye. “…want my ring back.”

“Right now?” Rowan asks, unshed tears in his eyes, and Aelin nods readily. As Rowan crosses the room to the dresser and pulls the small velvet box from his sock, Aelin’s heart starts pounding again. This is really happening.

He shakes his head slightly as he opens the box and pulls out the ring. It gleams under the soft glow of the moon, casting emerald shadows across their white duvet.

“You know, that was a hell of a proposal, Ms. Ashryver.” He smirks, and she cocks her eyebrow in return.

“So what’s your answer, Mr. Whitethorn?”

He pretends to look pensive for a second, before sliding the ring back onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “Yes, I think I’d like to marry you,” he says, leaning close to her lips. “And what about you? You’ll marry me, too?”

“I already said yes,” she whispers. The tension hums between them, both their hearts pounding with the electric current of their promises. “Yes,” she answers again, and Rowan pulls her beneath the blankets with him.

~*~

“You know your initials are going to spell AAW, now, which I find absolutely adorable,” Lysandra says as she takes Aelin’s splayed hand in her grasp. Her eyes narrow in on the new piece of jewelry, examining it like a hawk.

“It’s stunning, Ae,” she concludes, and Aelin can’t help but peer over Lysandra’s shoulder to grin at the man of the hour, taking beers out of their fridge.

“I know,” Aelin says, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much at her family and friends’ enthusiasm over their “very expected” nuptials, as Manon put it.

The doorbell rings, and Aelin attempts to extract herself from the small circle of women who have huddled around her hand to “oo” and “ah,” at her ring, but Rowan is faster. He welcomes her parents into their abode with a wide smile. Evalin and Rhoe drop off giant catering tins filled with food, prepared by Emrys, on the kitchen island.

Rowan throws Aelin a knowing smirk, and her cheeks pink remembering the thorough way they debased that particular part of the house last night. 

Lysandra chuckles softly and whispers in her ear, “I hope you Cloroxed that.”

Aelin’s pink cheeks darken, heating wildly at Lysandra’s knowing smile. She must look shocked, because Lys simply shakes her head and shrugs. “How do you think we got two kids? Please. Aedion and I used to screw on every surface in—”

“Okay!” Aelin holds up her hand. “I don’t need to know.” She gags, feeling slightly queasy at the image of her brother and his wife going at it. “But yes, we invested in Clorox wipes this summer.”

“Smart girl,” she says, squeezing Aelin’s shoulder lightly.

Aelin rolls her eyes and heads to the island to help her fiancé unpack the food and welcome her parents. They greet her with hugs and kisses, and Evalin can’t stop smiling. Neither can Aelin, though. She’s getting _married_. To Rowan. She’s never felt this kind of happiness.

When Aelin goes to lift the foil from the food, Rowan pushes her away. “Go, sit. I’ll make you a taco.”

The food smells heavenly. Emrys has outdone himself, Aelin thinks to herself as she takes in the spread of multiple taco fillings and accoutrements. And in a separate Tupperware, just for her, is her favorite potato salad, labeled with her name and the word, “Congratulations!” underneath. She thinks she might cry.

“Grilled adobo chicken with corn salsa, guac, and cheese?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

“Chips?” he asks, and she shakes her head, instead pointing to her special Tupperware. He winks at her and shoos her away, back to entertain everyone as he calls out, “Food’s ready!” A line forms across the island, and Rowan oversees food distribution as Aelin wanders back out to heir friends. She knows what he’s doing. By staying by the food, Rowan doesn’t have to socialize or make small talk. Things he loathes. She doesn’t call him out, letting him retreat to his comfort place of the kitchen as she makes her way out to the screened in porch where most everyone is sitting.

“So, when do we get proposal details?” Elide asks, sipping at her beer. Lorcan frowns, commenting that proposals are private, and Aelin briefly wonders if those two are next in line to walk down the aisle.

She smiles as slides onto the chaise next to an outstretched Dorian, who’s already working on his third beer, and tells a very vague and abridged version of their proposal.

Manon laughs every step of the way, relishing in the ridiculousness of their premature proposal. “And the ring traveled across the room from his pocket, hm? How aggressively was he kicking them off?”

“Manon, my family is here,” Aelin hisses.

“Your family knows what you two were up to in your bedroom all last summer,” Aedion laughs loudly, “And apparently this summer,” he continues, pulling Lysandra into his lap, as the room bursts into laughter at Aelin’s expense.

“I hate you all,” Aelin groans as Rowan walks into the porch, both their plates in hand.

“I hope not,” he says as he hands off the plate to Aelin. “Otherwise, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty awkward…”

“You know I love you,” Aelin says, batting her eyelashes. “You bring me food.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a large bite of his taco. Aelin does the same and nearly moans in satisfaction. It’s so spicy and so good. She _really_ hopes it stays down. The only food she’s had in the last two days has been ice cream and toast.

As she devours her plate, she listens to Elide and Lorcan’s summer plans, nodding and hmming in all the right places. She saved her potato salad for last, because you should always save the best for last, and excitedly plops a piece into her mouth. She chews twice before she spits it back out onto the plate. The whole room silences.

“Sorry,” Aelin apologizes, covering the chewed potato with a napkin. “I think the mayo was off.”

Rowan takes a bite of it himself and cocks his head to the side. “It tastes fine to me. Are you sure you’re not still sick?” he asks, leaning over to feel her forehead. It flushes under his touch, but not because she’s sick. She’s been fine for over twenty-four-hours.

“I’m fine,” Aelin whines. “But that mayo was not.”

Manon opens her mouth and closes it. And then opens it again. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

“No…” Rowan and Aelin reply quickly at the same time, before glancing at each other, and then back at the room filled with their friends and family. Their expressions range from amused to suspicious to horrified to confused, and suddenly Aelin thinks she’s going to be ill all over again.

“That’s not possible,” Aelin comments confidently. There’s no way. She went back on the pill as soon as she went home last summer. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s not a hundred percent sure she actually bled during her last placebo pill week. But she must have, right?

“Aelin?” Rowan asks, his voice unreasonably high. He leans forward and places his hand on her knee, and she looks down at it, placing her hand atop it, before looking back at him.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy.”

“Oh, I’m coming too!” Elide announces, downing the rest of her beer.

Aelin rushes out of the house without saying goodbye to anyone. She assumes Rowan makes some excuse for their departure, but she doesn’t have time to delay. She needs to know and needs to know now. How the hell could this have happened? There must be some other explanation. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel as Rowan hops into the passenger seat, and Elide slides into the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Aelin nods tersely.

“Uh huh,” she replies, but she’s not entirely sure how she feels.

Inside the pharmacy, Aelin pulls three different brands of pregnancy tests. Rowan stands awkwardly beside her, arms crossed, perusing the back of each.

“I don’t know,” he says calmly, but his wild green eyes betray his panic. “Is there a best brand?”

Aelin doesn’t know. She decides to get all three.

As they wait in the check-out line, Elide giggles loudly.

“Aw man,” she places a hand each on Rowan and Aelin. “Remember the last time I ran into you here? You were buying condoms.” Her eyes flick to the pregnancy tests. “Why’d you stop using them?”

“Elide!” Aelin hisses, and Elide grimaces at her tone. Rowan pays quickly and swipes the bag of the counter and returns to the car. She looks at Rowan, his eyes simmering with worry as he looks her over. “The mayo was off… wasn’t it?” she asks again, and Rowan reaches for her hand, taking it in his larger one and shakes his head. 

Aelin speeds home, ignoring everyone as she makes her way into the guest bathroom and pees on every single stick. She’s taking no chances. She sets a three-minute timer on her phone, and slinks against the bathroom door, falling until her butt hits the cold tile of the floor. This was absolutely not the engagement celebration she had anticipated.

Through the door, she can hear Rowan lean against the other side. He must be sitting, too. His head thumps against the wood and she breathes in deeply, eyes screwed closed. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against the door, sliding his fingertips through the crack beneath it. Aelin brushes her own against his, and she releases some of the panic she’s been holding in her shoulders at his calming touch.

She stays like that, until her alarm goes off. And she can feel that tension creeping back into her body, which is suddenly frozen with fear.

“I can’t look,” she says.

“You have to look,” Rowan insists through the door.

“I don’t want to,” she groans. “And I don’t have to.” She pauses. “You can.”

She can hear his sharp exhale. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” she says quietly, and she can hear him stand. The doorknob turns and he pushes the door open. Aelin shifts slightly so he can get through, and he walks straight to the counter top where the tests are laid out, getting her pee all over one of the fancy hand towels.

Aelin closes her eyes tightly, thinking that if she closes her eyes, she won’t have to see the result. But of course. She forgot about her ears. Rowan’s breath stays steady as he turns and crouches in front of her.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Aelin’s heart thuds. She knew she was. As soon as Manon said the word, she knew.

“It was those stupid antibiotics when I had strep,” Aelin grumbles, putting her face into her hands. “I knew there was a chance, and I didn’t say anything. Why didn’t I say anything?” This was so not the plan. Her feelings are all over the place. “Rowan, what are we going to do?”

She opens her eyes, shocked to see how close Rowan is to her. He cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently as he probes into her with a loving gaze. It takes her aback for a second. The way he looks at her. Gods, she loves him so much. She blinks and is surprised when a tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it away and kisses it. The small gesture is enough to solidify how Aelin feels.

“I know this isn’t the right time for us. It’s so soon, and you’re in the middle of your schooling, and I’m going to be looking for a new app to work on soon, so… if you don’t a baby right now…” He swallows, his voice pained as he continues forward, and Aelin can’t gasp soon enough. “I’ll support you no matter what—”

“No!” Aelin shakes her head.

“No?” Rowan asks, quirking his head to the side, and Aelin finally lets her tears spill over her cheeks.

“No.” She shakes her head, giving him a watery smile. “This is our baby. I want this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and she nods again, blinking rapidly. She can’t blink the tears away fast enough, so Rowan kisses them away, pressing his lips against her eyes and her cheeks until her crying abates.

The pair kissing in the bathroom don’t even notice when their party departs, too busy being wrapped up in one another.

~*~

Rowan is woken up in the middle of the night, again, by his fiancée. He loves her more than anything, but he’d really enjoy a full night of sleep one of these nights. Preferably without her yelling at him.

“Rowan!” she growls, rousing him from his pleasant dreams, and hoisting him up. Her face is red with anger, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking ready to attack.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you knocked me up! Now we have to have a shotgun wedding!” she yells, louder than she has any right to in the middle of the night.

“Can it really be considered a shotgun wedding if I proposed to you before I knew you were pregnant?” Rowan asks, trying to pull her back down, and immediately regrets it, based on Aelin’s increased anger.

She frowns. “I don’t want to be fat at my wedding.”

Rowan laughs sweetly and pulls Aelin into his arms. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be pregnant.”

Aelin pushes herself out of his grasp and glares. Ok. Wrong thing to say, clearly. “I refuse to be fat at my wedding,” she growls, flopping back onto her pillow. “But if we wait until after we have the baby for me to get my body back… that could be two years from now.” She rolls over and faces him. “I don’t want to wait two years.”

Rowan scoots down until he’s facing her, his legs tangled with her bare ones beneath the covers. “First of all, you’re beautiful, no matter what.” Aelin scoffs, clearly not believing his truth. “But, we don’t have to wait.” He can’t help but kiss her surprised face. “Let’s get married this summer. Here. It’s where I’d want to do it anyway.”

He can see a hundred thoughts racing through Aelin’s blue eyes as she contemplates his proposal.

“Plan a wedding in two months? My mom is going to die.”

“If it’s too much…”

“It’s not too much,” Aelin replies, snuggling closer to him. He runs his hand up the back of her tank top, feeling her skin warm the pads of his fingers. She presses closer to him, her curves against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss her.

“It’ll still be a shotgun wedding,” Rowan says through kisses. “The people who don’t already know will surely figure it out when the baby comes six months later.”

“As long as I look good in photos, I don’t care.”

“Good to know motherhood won’t affect your vanity,” Rowan chuckles, and Aelin gasps.

“Rowan, we’re getting married, and we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan shakes his head. “I know. What have we done?”

~*~

If Rowan thought last summer was a whirlwind, it’s nothing compared to a summer with a pregnant, last minute wedding-planning Aelin. As soon as they told her parents the plan, Aelin was off to the races. They’ve decided to forgo everything traditional, much to Evalin’s distress. The only thing Aelin has insisted upon is Rowan not seeing her wedding dress beforehand, which he has no problem with.

In fact, he’s been fairly uninvolved in the wedding plans, leaving the decisions to Aelin. He found out very quickly that she had strong opinions about flowers and colors and food. The only thing he’s insisted upon participating in is the guest list – which includes only twenty of their closest friends and family. He knows that number isn’t even a tenth of the amount of people who attended Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding. Aelin is expected to have a high society wedding, but she and Rowan are defying expectations left and right with their lives. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. They stopped asking for approval from anyone the second they got together, and everyone seems to be okay with that.

Rowan smirks as Aelin sighs loudly from the back seat of his car. Her arms are crossed against her chest, pushing up her breasts to make an even larger than usual swell of cleavage. Despite her insecurities, pregnancy looks incredible on Aelin, and Rowan can’t help if his eyes flick to her chest more often these days.

“Stop checking out my rack, Rowan,” Aelin frowns, and he laughs boisterously, tipping his head back in amusement at his grumpy fiancée. “It’s not funny. Look at the road.”

Rowan stares harder. “We’re at a stoplight.”

Aelin’s lips curl into the most adorable pout, and her blue eyes widen.

“You know, you could have driven up here with me,” Rowan says of the empty passenger seat next to him, and Aelin shakes her head.

“No, changing levels is the one thing that makes me queasy,” she explains.

“Which is why you should have driven up here,” Rowan says. “My mom is going to insist that the pregnant girl sit in the front.”

“Adults sit in the front,” Aelin snaps, and Rowan smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, but you _are_ an adult.”

Aelin frowns again. “You know what I mean.”

They drive in silence for a few more seconds until the tension becomes so thick that Rowan has to ask. “Are you nervous about meeting my mom?”

It’s all the prompting Aelin needs to explode. “Yes!” she shouts, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Of course I’m nervous! I’ve stolen her son away from her. You didn’t even go back for Yulemas,” she prattles nervously. Rowan watches as she emphasizes with her hands, a sure sign of Aelin’s stress. It’s completely unfounded, though.

“Aelin, you don’t understand,” Rowan throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “You made Dora’s dreams come true by dating me, much less marrying me and incubating our child. She _loves_ you.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Incubating?”

Rowan shrugs. “What would you call it?”

“Incubating works,” she replies with a snort, and Rowan can tell he’s had some luck in calming her nerves.

By the time they arrive at the airport, Dora is already waiting on the curb with her bag in her hand. She’s come to spend the whole wedding week, spending time with Rowan and meeting her in-laws before they make it official. Rowan’s been playing it cool, but he is _incredibly_ excited to see his mom.

He hops out of the car and welcomes her with a big hug as soon as he can. Aelin nervously exits the car and waves hello. He watches as Dora’s eyes go wide as she extricates herself from Rowan and throws her arms around Aelin.

“You are even more stunning in person,” Dora says, causing a soft blush to appear on Aelin’s cheeks. “How are you feeling? Sick at all? How are the cravings? How are your studies? Are you teaching at all this summer?”

“Uhhh…”

It’s so rare that Aelin is flustered, that is gives Rowan some sort of sick pleasure that it’s Dora Whitethorn, who makes her nervous. Rowan can’t help but smile as he watches his two favorite women meet each other. As he expected, Dora goes straight for the back seat when it’s time to return to the car, and it’s a fight Aelin loses quickly.

“Told you so,” Rowan says, winking at a disgruntled Aelin, as she buckles herself in.

“Has your son always been so self-righteous?” Aelin asks the white-haired woman making herself comfortable in the back of Rowan’s roomy SUV.

Dora’s green eyes twinkle as she hums. “No, but he’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“Mom!” Rowan can hear her snickering behind him, and Aelin’s eyes widen in joy. There’s nothing she loves more than teasing him. He forgot that these two share that interest.

“It’s true, baby,” Dora laughs. “You’re constantly making things much harder than they should be. Aelin should know what she’s getting herself into.”

Rowan frowns as Aelin laughs harder. “If I get left at the altar I’m blaming you.”

Aelin snorts loudly and puts her hand on her stomach. “As if I’d raise this chicken on my own. No offense, Dora, but I seems really hard. I don’t know how you did it. And so well.”

“Sometimes you get a good egg,” Dora says with a small smile just for Aelin. “Now, tell me all the gossip about everyone who’s going to be at this wedding. I just flew ten hours and am ready to be entertained.”

~*~

“Stop fidgeting,” Manon hisses, swatting Rowan’s hands away from his carefully brushed hair.

“I can’t,” Rowan admits, tugging nervously at a lock of his hair. He’d meant to get a haircut before the big day, but clearly that hadn’t happened, and now his hair is just a smidge too long, falling into his eyes ever so slightly.

Manon glares, her heavily lined eyes throwing him a look that could kill. And he knows she means it. Rowan stands still, taking a deep breath and attempting to center himself as Manon rolls up the sleeves of his light blue blazer.

“How are you this nervous?” Manon asks, quirking her red-painted lips into an amused half-smile. “Dorian is officiating.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rowan groans. How he said yes to that idea, he’ll never know. Aelin must have been in the midst of performing some incredible sexual act for him to agree to that detail. But it seemed too important to her say no. Plus, it’s not like there was anyone else he’d rather do it. He was just… nervous. About what Dorian might potentially say in front of their guests. After all. He’d been there since the very beginning.

“He loves you both,” Manon says with a sigh. “And I do too. Although if you ever use it against me I’ll deny forever.”

“You love Aelin?” Rowan asks, and he watches as his best friend rolls her eyes and hip checks Rowan. She adjusts the thin straps of her navy jumpsuit, smoothing out the silky fabric to assure her minor assault hasn’t messed up her wedding look.

“I just told you I’d deny it.” She places her hands on her hips, examining Rowan up and down, before adjusting the small white pocket square in his blazer. “There. Perfect.” She says with a pat to his chest. “Ready?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

Rowan leads Manon through the gates of Ashryver Playland and lets his worries ease away. He’s not sure why he was ever nervous. He’s about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.

Beside the pier, in the location where Rowan had intended to ask Aelin to marry him, is a small walkway leading out to a platform on the beach. Ten chairs flank either side, filled with smiling, familiar faces. Dorian waits at the center of the platform, beneath a stunning arch of twisting greenery dotted with pale flowers.

As the sun starts to descend, a dark golden haze casts itself over the sand. He watches as it turns to orange and then pink beneath his shadow. And then he knows it’s time.

Rowan smiles as Gavin leads Fleefoot down the aisle, spreading pale flower petals across the platform with his other hand and then takes a seat next to his family, who congratulates him with high fives and cheers. Fleetfoot happily thumps her tail as Rowan gives her a smile, too.

But his attention is diverted immediately as everyone stands to welcome Aelin. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he spots her face. Aelin lifts her chin up toward the colorful tie-dye sky and takes a deep breath. As she takes her first step onto the platform, she smiles the most beautiful smile Rowan’s ever seen. He’s sure his face mirrors hers, and he can’t help but laugh as she scrunches up her nose slightly and sticks her tongue out at him. Gods, she’s perfect.

His eyes never leave her grinning face. When he takes her hands in his, when she stands here facing him, all the way until they say, “I do.” He’s not sure what he was ever worried about, because he barely even hears Dorian’s officiating, too busy being swept up in the turquoise-gold of Aelin’s eyes.

When Dorian announces, “You may kiss the bride,” Rowan doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. If she’s surprised by the exuberance of his kiss, Aelin doesn’t show it. She matches his fervor with equal force, soft lips parting to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths a little too thoroughly for public consumption.

“Now everyone knows how Aelin got pregnant,” Dorian snorts quietly behind him, and Aelin smiles and laughs into Rowan’s mouth.

Seeing his opportunity, Dorian interrupts them before they can go in for another kiss. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Rowan lifts Aelin, scooping her from under her knees, and cradles her against his chest as he bounds off the platform.

“Where are you going?” Dorian yells as Aelin squeals loudly. But Rowan doesn’t care.

He finds the pole he was looking for immediately. Below the pier. Where he first kissed Aelin. He wants to kiss her there as his wife for the first time.

“Rowan!” she gasps as he presses her against the wooden beam, his mouth finding hers quickly. He can feel her soft fingers in his hair, tugging him against her, reciprocating his kiss, making his pulse race just like that very first time.

He pulls away panting, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much,” she whispers. “But if you ruin my dress before we get a picture together, I’ll murder you.”

Rowan laughs and lets her down, and they both kick off their shoes and sink their toes into the sand. He finally lets his eyes trail down her body, taking in her flowing white dress and grins.

“I’m going to be honest, I just looked at the dress for the first time.”

She smacks his shoulder, and he recoils, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfect.”

She tilts her head to the side, letting her loose waves fall over her shoulder. “You’re a sap.”

“A sap you love,” he retorts quickly.

“Gods help us,” Aelin laughs, reaching up to kiss him again. But Rowan has other thoughts in mind. He trails his lips down her neck to her chest, loving the way the neckline of her dress emphasizes it.

“Oy!” Dorian cackles, “Let’s keep it PG. There’s people who want to eat dinner soon.”

Rowan flicks him off. “We’ll meet you there.”

But Aelin grabs his hand and pulls him to follow Dorian.

Their small reception is only a ten minute walk away in the Ashryvers’ back patio. Aelin made the playlist herself, and they covered the pool with a temporary dance floor. Emrys made the dinner – no mayo in anything and sparkling cider to last well into the night.

Rowan walks hand in hand with his bride across the sand, walking the familiar stretch from Playland to the Ashryver Estate. Only this time, everything is different. Nothing is a secret. And they both belong in a world of their own creation – one they’re going to start getting ready to bring a life into.

~*~

“What are you thinking?” Aelin says from her perch on his lap, well into the evening. She runs her fingers through his hair, now disheveled from hours of dancing and too many sips of champagne.

“I’m thinking that I can’t wait until next summer,” Rowan says, cracking a smile at Aelin. She rubs her thumb against his cheek and presses her lips to his.

“The last two summers weren’t crazy enough for you?” she asks. “You want to know what it’s going to be like with an infant in the mix?”

Rowan pales. “Oh my god, Aelin, we’re going to have a _baby_.”

“Did you forget?” she says, holding back a laugh.

He shakes his head. “No. I just…” He pauses. “What are we going to do with a baby at Playland?”

Aelin laughs, leaning her tired head against his shoulder. “Well, we’ll obviously take them on the Firecoaster, first and foremost. Then the High Flyer. Oh, and the Bumper Cars.”

Rowan can feel his lips turning down into a frown as he imagines his child on the dangerous rides.

“Rowan, I’m kidding,” she assures him, and he squeezes her side, causing her to let out a sharp cackle. “We’ll figure it out,” she finally says quietly. “We always do.”

She tightens her hand around his, and the pair sit together, wrapped up in each other, long after their party has ended and their friends have gone home, telling each other stories of summers to come and memories yet to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have loved writing this fic so much, and I don’t truly want to say goodbye. Which is why if you ever want a futuretake with these two, I will be more than happy to take prompts. ALSO, in case you haven't seen, I started a new Rowaelin fic called I Don’t Want To Wait (high school best friend AU).


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